Escape
by Aeyra
Summary: When Draco tags along with the trio after they escape from Malfoy Manor, what the heck is everyone going to do? Why did he follow them? What's the plan? As we know, anything involving our Slytherin Prince isn't going to be easy. Eventual DraMione!
1. Chapter 1

*Okay, just to set things straight, this is going to be a _DraMione_ fanfiction, because I love DraMione. :P This chapter is based off of the chapter 'Malfoy Manor', except it's kind of from Draco's POV. The twist comes at the end, but I hope you'll read through this block of stuff anyways. Oh, and if anybody's interested, I'm searching for a beta, but the ones I've tried to contact kind of haven't replied. Have fun reading! ^^*

Chapter 1

Decision

"Draco," snapped his father, his stormy steel eyes unreadable, his voice full of tension. "Go down to the secret room again and see if those prisoners'll snap today. And no hesitating with the Cruciatus curse."

"Yes, father," he replied, eyes turned towards the ground, hiding the growing fury inside of him. He hated this task, hated it. He loathed the sound of screams erupting from the innocent people they were holding captive, loathed knowing that he was the one causing the pain. He didn't ask to be a part of this, didn't want to. So that was why he was a little relieved when he was assigned this task- he didn't have to torture them when he was there with them.

With a swish of his dark black cloak- his Death Eater cloak- he turned towards the stairs leading to down below, to the dank, lightless chamber. He felt his spacious pocket filled with leftover pastries from the kitchens. The house-elves didn't mind giving him extra, and he knew that they would keep quiet. Even if they did tell, he could pass it off as his personal sweet tooth.

For the past week, he had been handing some extra food to their prisoners whenever it was his turn to go down and torture them, telling them to act scared and hurt when the next person came down. Despite his changing loyalty, Draco really did not want to be caught. It would cost him his life, and the one thing that all Slytherins upheld was self-preservation. He hadn't reached the point where he'd sacrifice himself to save others, in fact, he couldn't even imagine doing so. It was so, so, _Gryffindor._ He shivered at the thought.

Just as he was about to disappear into the musky, undusted corridor leading to the cavern-like space, he heard a knock from the front gates, which were charmed to be like microphones. The knocking quickly turned to a furious, impatient pounding. _Who could it be?_ thought Draco curiously, pausing as he strained his ears towards the door. The next statement made his blood run cold.

"We've got Potter!" roared the triumphant growl of Fenrir Greyback, a man (werewolf to be exact) who truly terrified Draco. But not as much as his words. "We've captured Harry Potter!"

_You idiot Potter! If you get yourself killed, there's no way anyone can ever take down Voldemort! Bastard, didn't you get that you were supposed to stay safe?_ he yelled silently, feeling his hopes of one day escaping the grasps of the Dark Lord and his sickening duties of a Death Eater disappear.

However, with news as important as this, there was no way he could miss it. He glanced at his father to check his presumptions, and the taller man gave him a curt nod and a gesture to return to the main hall. His stomach churned as he watched Bellatrix excitedly pace up and down, her face filled with enough eagerness to tear down the door just to see Harry Potter's face even just a few seconds earlier. It was never a good sign when Bellatrix was happy- it usually preceded a round of torturing, and eventually death. It might have been a good show for all the other Death Eaters, but never for Draco.

The huge, obsidian black doors swung open to reveal three disheveled teenagers trudging into the manor, pushed by the large, bulky Snatchers from behind. He could recognize two of the three immediately- who else had red hair but a Weasley, and how could anyone mistake that bushy brown hair for anybody but Granger? But the other boy whom he presumed was Potter, what the hell had happened to him? It looked like he had a bee hive dropped on his face or something- Draco looked away in disgust.

"Who are you?" demanded his mother, wand pointed out towards the Snatchers, particularly at the werewolf.

"You know me!" he snarled, the growl filled with loathing. "Fenrir Greyback! We've caught Harry Potter!" He grabbed the bee hive boy and shoved him into the light, putting him into spotlight so all could see.

"I know 'e's swollen, ma'am, but it's 'im!" piped up another Snatcher, sounding both frightened and anxious. Draco snorted- all those fools probably cared about was the reward. "If you look a bit closer, you'll see 'is scar. And this 'ere, see the girl? The Mudblood who's been traveling around with 'im, ma'am. There's no doubt it's 'im, and we've got 'is wand as well! 'Ere, ma'am-"

He handed Narcissa a black wand, watching her face for either approval or rejection. She looked at them with suspicion, but approved it nonetheless with a sigh. "Bring them in."

The beaten-up trio was led down a wall covered in portraits of the Malfoy family tree, covering hundreds of years of history. Draco was disgusted with it- so many years, so much time they could have developed a _good_ reputation for themselves and they had wasted it, poisoning their roots with Dark magic. And they called themselves noble, righteous.

"Follow me," said Narcissa, strutting down the hallway with an air of superiority. "My son, Draco, is home for his Easter holidays. If that is Harry Potter, he will know."

And of course, the task of sentencing the hero and savior of the Wizarding World and his sidekicks would be left to him. His expression crumpled into rage for a second before he composed himself, well, as best as he could, repairing the cold hard anger, feeling it transform into chilling fear. If he did what he wanted to do, he'd deny it was Harry Potter and his best friends, and get himself killed in the process along with them. He didn't want to die, but he didn't want to let these three die either. What had they done? Nothing wrong. Only right. Goody.

Draco settled into an armchair, closing his silver eyes and taking deep breaths. He had moments to make a decision- betray himself, betray the part of him that wanted to do something right for once, something he'd choose entirely of his own accord, or follow the will or his parents and _Lord, _be a mere puppet in their evil, twisted show. _Slytherins value self-preservation over all else…_ That was one of the key traits that defined his house, along with ambition and purity of blood. He'd just have to try to play the cards so they'd all live, if that was even possible.

"What is this?" drawled his father, staring intently at the black-haired boy.

"They say they've got Potter," informed Narcissa, motioning for Draco to come over. This was it. "Draco, come here."

Draco took long, slow steps over, gliding over the ornate carpeting of the drawing room until he was right in front of his classmate. Even from his armchair he wouldn't be able to deny that the teen in front of him was Harry Potter. Luckily for him, he was skilled at lying. You don't escape being Slytherin without acquiring that attribute at least.

"Well boy?" asked the werewolf, quickly getting irritated. Draco ignored him, instead focusing on the boy presented to him.

He tried to look Potter in the eye, hoping to see hope, some trust in Draco let him free, something that would help Draco follow his resolve. No hope, the boy didn't dare meet his gaze, and Draco wondered if he could. Those sores or whatever they were looked like they _hurt._ He could hardly see the emerald orbs through them. Poor Potter. The pity gave him a little bit of courage. But the glare from his father and aunt quickly subdued it.

"Well, Draco?" asked his father, sounding absolutely furious with his son's hesitance. "Is it? Is it Harry Potter?"

Draco cowered, looking away from Harry, torn between terror and his own sense of justice. "I can't- I can't be sure," he stuttered, sentence breaking as he cracked beneath his father's intimidating presence.

"But look at him carefully, look! Come closer! Draco, if we are the ones who hand Potter over to the Dark Lord, everything will be forgiv-" Draco tried mute out his father, sensing that little part of him that wanted nothing more than to please his father, to hear the words it had never heard, _"I'm proud of you."_ He was relieved when Greyback did it for him. He didn't need to hear another round of _'Voldemort is our god and we must worship him'_speeches.

"Now, we won't be forgetting who actually caught him, I hope, Mr. Malfoy?" said Greyback, eyes glimmering with challenge and greed.

"Of course not, of course not," replied Lucius brusquely, clearly paying the werewolf no mind as he examined Potter for himself, peering into the puffed up face as if it were a valuable art piece on display.

"What did you do to him?" asked Lucius as calmly as if Potter were a mere animal- in his head, that's what he was. "How did he get into this state?"

"That wasn't us."

"Looks like a Stinging Jinx to me," he observed, gaze raking his forehead for the telltale lightning mark. "There's something there. Could be the scar stretched tight... Draco, come here, look properly! What do you think?"

Reluctantly, Draco approached again, feeling actual pain as he looked at the doomed companions. He could grant them freedom with his answer, but it would more likely than not fail. Between the two sides of him, he compromised. "I don't know."

He returned to his mother almost resembling a puppy with its tail between its legs. He wanted to scamper away where he couldn't feel the daggers of hatred piercing him, the murderous stares of Weasley and Granger. What he would give to be chatting with Lovegood, Thomas, and Ollivander. Everyone always cast a silencing charm on the room so nobody else would have to here the screams, and therefore no one would hear him conversing with their prisoners like friends.

Of course, they still hadn't completely warmed to him, and he made them swear to never tell of what he did to anyone. However, they accepted him and were always happy for the reprieve in a life of constant torture. It made him feel warm inside- a feeling that he was helping people, that he was doing the right thing. He wished he felt that right now.

He chanced a glance back at Granger, her loathsome expression reminding him of a feral cat, defensive and vengeful. Her golden-brown eyes swirled like monsoons, just as deadly as the storms. He almost expected her to growl at him.

"We had better be certain, Lucius," called his mother, taking long strides to her husband's side. "Completely certain it is Potter, before we summon the Dark Lord... They say this is his-" She held up the blackthorn wand, scrutinizing it. "-but it does not resemble Ollivander's description... If we are mistaken, if we call the Dark Lord here for nothing... Remember what he did to Rowle and Dolohov?"

Draco shuddered at the mention of the two former Death Eaters. Former only because they had made a couple of errors, and then were sentenced to death. Sometimes he wondered if Voldemort treated his servants worse than his enemies. It was just as dangerous to be a Death Eater as Harry Potter sometimes.

"What about the Mudblood then?" growled Greyback, snatching Potter back and pushing Granger into the bright light of the crystal chandelier. She stumbled forwards, losing her balance, only kept up by Greyback's claws around her arms, like a puppet.

"Wait," said Narcissa, voice cold, examining the girl. "Yes- yes, she was in Madam Malkin's with Potter! I saw her picture in the _Prophet! _Look, Draco, isn't it the Granger girl?"

If he denied it now, he'd probably get killed for being a fool and possibly a betrayer. Everybody was already so sure of her identity- even his denial couldn't save her. This was all so hopeless. He felt the words slip helplessly from his tongue, "I… maybe… yeah." He refused to turn back, look back at the girl he'd just condemned.

"But then, that's the Weasley boy!" exclaimed Lucius, walking around the prisoners to Weasley, smiling as he stared at the freckles and red hair, the unmistakable marks of a Weasley. "It's them, Potter's friends- Draco, look at him, isn't it Arthur Weasley's son, what's his name-?"

"Yeah," he hissed out, closing his eyes. _Damn you Draco, you coward…_ "It could be."

The door slammed open to reveal Bellatrix, who had been talking downstairs with a spare Snatcher. "What is this?" She walked with a royal air to the bound prisoners beneath the light, eyes landing on Hermione, who cringed. "But surely," she said in a voice that was almost a whisper, "this is the Mudblood girl? This is Granger?"

"Yes, yes, it's Granger!" cheered Lucius, gray eyes glittering with joy. "And beside her, we think, Potter! Potter and his friends, caught at last!"

"Potter?" shrieked Bellatrix, backing away to view the black-haired teen better. "Are you sure? Well then, the Dark Lord must be informed at once!" She grabbed her sleeve and pulled it back, revealing the hideous tattoo like snake and skull that all Death Eaters had, and Draco could almost feel it sting already.

"I was about to call him!" interrupted Lucius, stopping Bellatrix's ardent fingers from touching her master's mark. "_I_ shall summon him, Bella, Potter has been brought to my house, and it is therefore upon my authority-"

"You authority!" she laughed, trying to wrestle her way out of Lucius's strong grip. "You lost your authority when you lost your wand, Lucius! How dare you! Take your hands off me!"

"This is nothing to do with you, you did not capture the boy-"

"Begging your pardon, _Mr. _Malfoy," piped up Greyback, "but it's us that caught Potter, and it's us that'll be claiming the gold-"

"Gold!" jeered Bellatrix, trying to grab her wand with her spare hand while attempting to wrench her arm from Lucius. "Take your gold, filthy scavenger, what do I want with gold? I seek only the honor of his- of-"

She froze, as if she were stunned or petrified, black eyes locked onto a beautiful sword in the hands of a Snatcher. It had a jeweled handle, and Draco could make out a few letters carved onto the steel of the blade, _God- Gr-fin-_, it couldn't be... The sword of Godric Gryffindor? His father was instantly elated with glee, and he peeled back his own robe, about to slam his his Dark Mark-

"STOP!" yelled Bellatrix. "Do not touch it; we shall all perish if the Dark Lord comes now!"

Everybody heeded her command, whether it was because of the frightening tone of her voice or the punishment it promised, Draco wasn't sure. For him, it was a combination.

"What is that?" she asked, pointing at the Snatcher.

"Sword," he grunted back, not meeting her deadly stare.

"Give it to me," she commanded, each word holding the weight of ten tons of ice.

"It's not yorn, missus, it's mine, I reckon I found it."

There was a flash of red light, and the Snatcher dropped to the floor, Stunned. His fellow Snatchers roared in protest: Scabior pointed his wand at Bellatrix.

"What d'you think you're playing at, woman?"

"_Stupefy!"_ she shrieked. _"Stupefy!"_

The Snatchers didn't even get a chance to fire a single spell before they all fell before her. Draco couldn't help but feel awe- four versus one, and she got away without a scratch. Now only if one of the trio had that kind of skill, they wouldn't have managed to get themselves caught by a stupid werewolf and friends. Greyback had been forced into a kneeling position, arms on the ground as if he were bowing to Bellatrix.

"Where did you get this sword?" she whispered, yet Draco could hear every rasp of her tongue. She took Greyback's wand.

"How dare you?" he replied, taut with anger. Bellatrix flicked her wand, and he looked up at her, baring his fangs, he demanded, "Release me, woman!"

"Where did you find this sword?" she repeated, sounding irritated and impatient. That was never a good combination in Bellatrix. "Snape sent it to my vault in Gringotts!"

"It was in their tent. Release me, I say!"

Bellatrix waved her wand again, and the werewolf immediately stood up, but didn't attack Bellatrix as Draco half expected he would. He looked much too wary for that now. He went to the armchair Draco had sat in and scraped his filthy, claw-like nails across the leather surface.

"Draco, move this scum outside," instructed Bellatrix, motioning to the unconscious men outside. Draco looked terrified, knowing it would mean their deaths would be on him- so far he hadn't killed anybody. Bellatrix sensed this, and added, "If you haven't got the guts to finish them, then leave them in the courtyard for me."

He let out a relieved grin while his mother suddenly interjected. "Don't you dare speak to Draco like-"

"Be quiet! The situation is graver than you can possibly imagine, Cissy! We have a very serious problem." Bellatrix paused, panting as she reexamined the sword. Draco cast a levitation charm, making the unconscious soon-to-be corpses follow him down the stairs and through the door out. He stayed out for a few moments longer, staring at the upstairs window.

An albino peacock fluttered to his side, the white feathers glowing in the silver moonlight. Draco petted it gently, listening to it gently coo as it rubbed its head against him. Smiling, he watched his pet strut away, even it holding the air of a Malfoy, prideful. He heard more screams erupt from above, and knew it was time to reenter.

"Take these prisoners down to the cellar, Greyback." He arrived just in time to see his mother commanding the werewolf, and swerved to avoid the four.

"Wait," Bellatrix said as she approached, placing her hand on Granger's shoulder. "All except… except for the Mudblood." Greyback let out a grunt of glee.

"No!" shouted Weasley, eyes alert and defensive. "You can have me, keep me!"

Draco found himself just as angry as Weasley, but unlike him, didn't act upon it, struggling to keep himself expressionless. He no longer believed in pureblood superiority- how could someone as smart and powerful as Hermione Granger possibly be inferior to him, a sniveling servant of evil? How dare Bellatrix grab her, how dare she plan to torture her? He could see it in her eyes, the beady glare of a hunter judging how it should take down its prey.

Bellatrix slapped Ron, kicking him for good measure. "If she dies under questioning, I'll take you next. Blood traitor is next to Mudblood in my book. Take them downstairs, Greyback, and make sure they are secure, but do nothing more to them- yet."

She nonchalantly tossed the werewolf's wand back to him, and then retrieved a knife from under her robes. She cut Granger free from the other two, allowing Greyback to drag the other two to the cellars below. Draco watched as they disappeared, and then turned back to Hermione, who was forced into the same kneeling position as Greyback.

"Tell me Mudblood, where did you find the sword? Tell me!"

"W-we just found it, I swear, I'm not lying!" she shrieked, letting out a yell of pain as she was struck by the Cruciatus Curse. "Please, please believe me!"

"You filthy Mudblood, do not dare lie to me!" Draco blanched, watching as the Cruciatus Curse was cast again, wanting to look away from the horrible scene in front of him, yet unable. "Snape sent this to my vault at Gringotts! You and your friends stole it! Tell me the truth!"

"W-we didn't take it from Gringotts! I swear, I swear, I swear it, please, please!" She was shaking, a common side effect of the Cruciatus Curse, and Draco wanted to rush in and save her. He heard a bellowing from down below, the name 'Hermione' shouted over and over. The voice of somebody desperate to save the shaking girl in front of him. Somebody who was probably brave enough to do it. Why couldn't he conjure that courage for himself?

"I'm going to ask you again! Where did you get this sword? _Where_?"

"We found it- we found it- PLEASE!" Granger screamed again, sounding like there were a million needles stuck in her, all pressing in at once. Draco knew how the curse felt, it had often been used on him when he disobeyed as a child. He unconsciously rubbed his arms, feeling that prickling sensation of pain as he remembered it. How he wanted to save her right now.

"You are lying, filthy Mudblood, and I know it! You have been inside my vault at Gringotts! Tell the truth, _tell the truth_!"

Hermione let out another pained yell, gasping for air as her lungs couldn't find the energy to shriek, eyes closed as she tried to steady herself, failing and falling onto the ground, curling into a ball. Everybody watched stoically, understanding the consequences of interrupting this questioning. Bellatrix's expression was filled with hatred, anger, and malicious desire.

"What else did you take? What else have you got? Tell me the truth or, I swear, I shall run you through with this knife!" Draco watched as Bellatrix slashed Granger's arm, the world starting to spin around him as he watched that red blood spill out, just as pure crimson as his own. If only he had the spirit of a Gryffindor nothing would be able to stop him from attacking Bellatrix- but he was a Slytherin. His instincts kept him rooted to the spot.

"What else did you take, what else? ANSWER ME! _CRUCIO!_" This time Bellatrix actually said the spell, and it seemed to be even more powerful than the unspoken curse. Granger was curled into the fetal position, as if she'd break apart if she wasn't.

"How did you get into my vault? Did that dirty little goblin in the cellar help you?"

"We only met him tonight!" pleaded Hermione desperately. "We've never been inside your vault… It isn't the real sword! It's a copy, just a copy!" Draco couldn't believe she could still talk- from experience he could say that he was incapable of speech after a mere two incantations.

"A copy? Oh, a likely story!"

"But we can find out easily!" cried Lucius. "Draco, fetch the goblin, he can tell us whether the sword is real or not!"

Draco nodded, shaking himself as he took his wand out of his robe and started walking downstairs, glad to be free of having to watch the torturing of Hermione Granger. He started down the stairs, knowing he couldn't show an ounce of pity, perfectly aware that everybody was waiting for _him._ "Stand back. Line up against the back wall. Don't try anything, or I'll kill you!"

He half wished they would try something, that Luna would at least be able to know he didn't have the heart or bravery to take them down. But when he opened the door, he discovered they had listened to him. Hiding his dismay behind a practiced Poker Face, he grabbed Griphook by the arm and dragged him out, shutting the door.

A loud _crack_ suddenly came from behind him, and looking back, he noticed the crack between the door and the ground suddenly light up, and Weasley exclaiming, "DOB-!" Had somebody come to save them? Draco kept the door unlocked, knowing it would make it easier for them to rescue Granger. Now he'd just have to pass off the _crack_ as him attacking one of the prisoners.

When he reached the room again, he once again heard the loud crack, and knew he'd be unable to pass it off as his curse, seeing he was in the view of everybody. "What was that?" shouted Lucius, looking around for the source of the noise. "Did you hear that? What was that noise in the cellar?" Draco paled, feeling that frail hope dissipate again. "Draco-" A moment of joy to know he could fix everything. "-no, call Wormtail! Make him go and check!" In despair, he called upon the rat-faced man and told him to go down.

They waited several moments as they heard the door open, and a small scuffling. "What is it, Wormtail?" called Lucius, his wand out, prepared for an attack if the prisoners escaped.

"Nothing, all fine!" wheezed Wormtail. Lucius relaxed, and Draco returned his attention to Bellatrix and the sword.

Soon, the goblin had the weapon in his hands, beetle-black eyes focused intently on the blade as he ran his fingers across it, holding it close, then holding it farther out, weighing it with his hands, as well as several other tests.

"Well, is it the true sword?" asked Bellatrix.

"No, it is a fake."

"Are you sure? Quite sure?"

"Yes," said the goblin, handing it back to her with a toothy smile.

"Good," replied Bellatrix, giving a wave her wand, slashing a deep cut onto the goblin's face, kicking him aside as he yelped. "And now, we call the Dark Lord!" Her forefinger pressed onto the Dark Mark, and instantly Draco doubled in pain, feeling his- he hated the word- _master's_ anger. "And I think we can dispose of the Mudblood. Greyback, take her if you want her."

At that instant, Potter and Weasley burst into the room, and Draco's eyes lit up in happiness. They had done it; perhaps not all was lost after all. "_Expelliarmus!" _roared Ron, Bellatrix's wand flying out of her hand and into Harry's.

"_Stupefy!"_ cried Harry, and Draco watched his father collapse on to the ground, Stunned. His mother and Greyback wheeled around, firing curses at the duo. In the confusion, Draco tried to aim a spell towards Bellatrix, but missed, cursing under his breath as Bellatrix stood up, holding Granger in her arms.

"STOP OR SHE DIES!"

Draco froze, watching his aunt hold the bloody silver knife to Granger's throat. The girl was breathing shallow breaths, but seemed unaware of the blade, eyes closed, looking like a rag doll. "Drop your wands," whispered Bellatrix. "Drop them, or we'll see exactly how filthy her blood is!"

Potter and Weasley stared in disbelief, their hands clenched around their wands, completely unsure of what to do. "I said, drop them!" screeched Bellatrix, starting to press the knife into Hermione's neck, and Draco could see scarlet drops appear, contrasting with the darkening, drying blood.

"All right!" declared Potter, dropping Bellatrix's wand as Weasley dropped his, raising their hands in surrender.

"Good! Draco, pick them up! The Dark Lord is coming, Harry Potter! Your death approaches!" _Idiots, how many chances are you going to just throw away? _seethed Draco, reluctantly taking away their last defense. Draco scurried back, holding the two wands plus his in his hands.

"Now," purred Bellatrix, a smile making its way across her face. "Cissy, I think we ought to tie these little heroes up again, while Greyback takes care of Miss Mudblood, I am sure the Dark Lord will not begrudge you the girl, Greyback, after what you have done tonight."

Draco heard a strange keening noise from above, and his gaze strayed up to the crystal chandelier, and he realized it was trembling. He yelped as it fell, trying to get away, feeling his back pierced by shards of glass, some of it scraping his cheeks, but nothing seriously vital was hit.

Weasley quickly tried to pull Granger out of the mess, Potter attacked him, wrenching the wands from Draco's weak grip. Draco didn't fight it, instead basically handing them to him, watching as Potter fired a triple Stunning spell at the werewolf, who was knocked off his feet.

Draco stood up, uncertain of what to do, looking Potter in the eye nervously. Bellatrix picked herself off the ground where she had jumped to escape the chandelier, and his mother had her wand pointed at the doorway towards a particular house-elf. Dobby. Draco instantly felt the fear mount in him- this elf had been one of his best friends through his childhood, possibly his only friend.

"Dobby!" screamed his mother, holding her wand steady. "You dropped the chandelier-?"

The elf strutted forwards, waving his long finger in a disapproving manner at his previous mistress. "You must not hurt Harry Potter!"

"Kill him, Cissy!" yelled Bellatrix, but Dobby used his magic and Narcissa's wand spiraled out of her grasp and was thrown across the room.

"You dirty little monkey!" said Bellatrix. "How dare you take a witch's wand, how dare you defy your masters?"

"Dobby has no master!" protested the elf, standing boldly in the face of the vicious witch. "Dobby is a free elf, and Dobby has come to save Harry Potter and his friends!"

Draco realized the elf was about to apparate along with Potter and Weasley, and he knew nobody was watching him. He ran forwards, reaching with a tentative hand toward one of their cloaks. "Ron, catch- and GO!" screamed Harry, and Draco clenched the black robe in his hands, feeling the world spin around him, but not letting go.

His silvery orbs saw the elegant manor disappear before him, watching the remnants of the once magnificent chandelier fade into a misty blue-gray. He was spinning in circles, a force like wind threatening to make him release his grip on Harry's cloak. He didn't think the teen had noticed Draco clinging to his robe, and he was glad of it. He didn't need to get Stunned while apparating.

Then, the spinning stopped, and he fell onto sand, seeing a small, dull beach before him, tiny waves crashing onto the shore. Where was he? Before he had time to pick himself up, he heard a _"Stupefy!" _and he fell to the ground again, stunned.

*I know it's annoying to ask for a review, but if you would be kind enough to leave one for me, I'd greatly appreciate it. Fellow writers know what I'm talking about, right? That successful feeling that you get when someone gives you a good review? I'll release the next chapter in... a week. Because I want to be able to stay on top of this and not suddenly stop posting for months and just giving up. I want to write this till then end. Thanks! I hope to see you next week!*


	2. Chapter 2

*Thanks to those who reviewed the last chapter, and all of you who favorited and put this story on your alert list! ^^ I was planning to post this chapter yesterday, but _Hurricane Irene_ decided it'd be funny if I didn't have electricity or power. Stupid hurricane... Oh, I forgot a disclaimer for the last chapter, but I think it's fairly obvious I don't any of the Harry Potter characters or the series itself. I own only this story! Not the ideas but the wording! This chapter is shorter than the last one (relief, right?), and I hope you enjoy!*

Chapter 2

Ron stared at the still form of Draco Malfoy, looking back and forth incredulously between the Slytherin blond and his black-haired best friend, whose wand was still pointed at the former, his expression bordering fear. "Bloody hell," whispered Ron, trying to comprehend their situation, anger starting to kindle once he recovered from the sheer shock of it all, exploding at once. "What the hell is Malfoy doing here? Harry, we've got to apparate now, before he wakes up! They'll find us here!"

"No, we can't. It's too dangerous. If we leave, we could have Death Eaters pouring in by the dozen within hours once Malfoy recovers. Besides, Luna, Dean, and Ollivander- not to mention Hermione- don't look like they're in top-notch condition to travel either Ron. I don't think it's safe to move them again. They need the rest and the food. I have his wand and he's Stunned. He can't do anything to us." Harry carefully examined the Slytherin, watching the silver-grey eyes staring into his. "Our roles have been reversed."

"He's a Death Eater, Harry!" protested Ron, pointing his own wand at Draco, contemplating which hex or curse to use. "He- he was with her! He was with Bellatrix, that bitch, I bet he wanted Hermione dead too!" His freckled face was purple with fury, and he held his hand steady, trying to take deep, calming breaths. "And what are we going to do with him anyway?"

"He's in Voldemort's circle. I bet we can weasel some information out of him," explained Harry, feeling as much anger as Ron, but unlike the feisty red-head, he was maintaining his cool. "First we have to get Hermione to the cottage-" His eyes landed on Dobby, who had a knife protruding from his chest, the moonlight turning the blood on his chest into a glowing crimson. He blinked, almost sure the sight before him was a hallucination, and then reality struck him. "DOBBY!"

The elf was panting, struggling to breathe as the life slowly drained out of his eyes. Harry took the small, wrinkled hands into his own, feeling tears starting to roll down his cheeks as their savior started to fade away. "Dobby, don't die on me!" he begged, a thousand memories running through his head. Dobby coming to him at Privet Drive, Dobby giving him the Gillyweed, all those treks to the kitchen in his time at Hogwarts, the manor, how the elf had just saved their lives…

The elf seemed beyond hearing, smiling as he murmured his last words, pressing a long finger to Harry's lips. "Dobby is happy to have helped Harry Potter and his friends, Dobby is... very happy..." The elf's eyes started to close, lids drooping as his breathing stopped, the scarlet flower making its way across his torn shirt. The finger fell down to Dobby's sides.

"No dammit! Dobby, you can't go! Not now! Please Dobby!" pleaded Harry desperately, clasping the still-warm fingers even harder, as if shaking the elf would bring him back. It only made the head wobble, making the elf look like a doll. "Please," he whispered.

A firm hand was placed on his shoulder, and Harry turned around, expecting to see Ron at his side. Instead he found it to be Bill Weasley, who looked at him with soft, sad understanding, trying to will the young teenager to accept the death. Swallowing the lump in his throat, Harry glanced back at Dobby, and then at Bill, taking control of the problems at hand.

"Help me take Hermione into the cottage, she's hurt and I'm pretty sure she's unconscious. Do you have a spare room we can use for Malfoy? We need to make sure he can't escape or anything." Bill's eyebrows furrowed in confusion as his gaze found the Stunned teenager lying on the sand, partially hidden by the sparse foliage, but he nodded, not questioning Harry's decision. He took out his wand, casting binding charms on the frozen boy.

"Does he have a wand? We don't want him apparating and blabbing about this cottage to You-Know-Who. Fleur and I would like to remain safe." Bill leaned down, examining Draco's robes with a wary eye.

"No, Harry took it from him." Ron pointed to the hawthorn wand that Harry held in his left hand. "He wrestled it from Malfoy during the fight in the manor, but the story can wait till later. Harry, help me take Hermione."

"It's okay, Ron," whispered Hermione, who had regained consciousness, voice tired and strained. "I think I can walk okay, it's only the cut on my arm that I think really needs some fixing." The gash in her robes was stained even darker black, and her pale, bloodied skin could be seen through the torn fabric. It was a terrible, hideous mess.

He helped her anyways, despite Hermione's protests. She looked fit to collapse, but being the stubborn witch she was, they argued the entire way to the small house. Bickering, they entered the Cottage, leaving Harry, Bill, and Draco alone outside.

It was silent for a few minutes, the sound of waves and the cawing of sea gulls the only sound in the empty, starry night. A cool, salty breeze brushed Harry's hair, refreshing him, but it still left the wrenching pain in his gut, to know yet one more person (well, elf, but he was a person to Harry) had died to save him. How many would get added to the list before all of this was over?

"Bill, I want to bury Dobby the traditional way, without magic. Do you have a spade?" Harry had crouched down to the elf, looking across the beach for a spot that would become the elf's final resting place. He wanted to give the elf all he deserved.

The man nodded, Summoning the object with a flick of his wand. Refocusing his attention to the bound Draco Malfoy, he muttered, "Rennervate." He knew having the boy walk was probably easier than levitation, and this way he could control when he'd wake up. While a _'Silencio' _and _'Mobilicorpus'_probably would do the job as well, Bill knew that Draco was still a mere kid, Death Eater or not, he was seventeen for crying out loud, and shouldn't have to be submitted to the spells unless necessary.

Draco struggled to get up, the binding of his hands making it awkward, neither fear or anger in his silver eyes, not meeting the curious gazes of both men, who seemed to be waiting for him to curse and complain. Instead, he glared at the sand, eyes empty of any emotion, following Bill Weasley as he started to walk back towards the cabin. Harry was surprised to see his former classmate move without a single protest or his, not even the traditional, defining smirk lighting his features. Was this really Draco Malfoy, the cocky, bullying Slytherin Prince?

Ron stared angrily at Draco as Bill let him inside, as if Draco's very presence was poisoning the air. Draco peered over at him with interest, and then looked at Hermione who was sitting beside him, concern lighting his features. She looked better, much better already, a warm cup of tea held in her hands, a rosy blush spreading across her cheeks as color returned to her pale, drawn face. When she caught him staring, her gaze instantly retreated to her tea, eyes desperate to avoid those of the Slytherin, giving an involuntary shudder- a side effect of the Cruciatus Curse. Silently, Bill gestured for Draco to walk up the small, creaking staircase, showing him a small room, a guest room. One of many in the cottage, seeing Bill and Fleur only used one room normally.

Draco nodded and sat down onto the bed, knowing lying down would only get him stuck, seeing his hands were bound behind his back. It was going to be hard to sleep, but at least here he could sleep in peace. "Thanks," he whispered quietly, causing Bill to jump a little bit. The Weasley was surprised- Draco Malfoy showing gratitude when he was about to be imprisoned in a room and actually sounding sincere? He couldn't believe it- perhaps he was hearing things.

"I'm going to lock this door with magic so you can't escape, and I've charmed all the windows to be unbreakable already- the storms here can be quite fierce." Draco sat on the windowsill, watching Harry starting to dig Dobby's grave, stone face emotionless. "I'll bring you some food later."

"Don't need it," Draco mumbled, remembering the torture of Hermione. With that in his head, he wouldn't be able to keep down any food at all. Bill acknowledged it, and went back down to the kitchen.

Downstairs, Ron and Hermione were already hotly discussing what to do about Draco. Ron was entertaining ideas of how to toss him somewhere without a wand where nobody would ever find him and he could rot away- a forest didn't sound so bad, and an isolated island sounded better. Hermione disagreed, saying they couldn't just let Draco die- it'd be better to keep him with a member of the Order of the Phoenix. That way, they could keep an eye on him and they'd be alerted when You-Know-Who wanted to make a move- it was a function of the Dark Mark.

Luna was sitting with them, sipping tea and eating a biscuit while occasionally contributing information relating to whatever magical beast was on her mind. Eventually, when Ron and Hermione started an all-out war, mainly based on obliterating or not obliterating Draco Malfoy from the face of planet Earth, she casually mentioned how he had given her and the other prisoners extra food and treated them nicely.

"Wait, what?" asked a surprised Hermione, drawing her eyes away from Ron, looking into the smiling face of Luna instead. "He _helped_ you?"

"Yes," replied Luna, voice a little dreamy like usual. "You know how we were tortured?" Ron and Hermione nodded simultaneously. "Well, they'd all come down in turns, the unimportant ones like Draco and Wormtail and others, and cast the Cruciatus Curse on us to try and get us to tell them where you three were. The others were all ruthless, but when Draco came down, he didn't do a single thing to us. He just put a _'muffliato' _charm on the door, and handed us leftover pastries from dinner. The first few times, he just sat in a corner and didn't say anything. He had the last shift of the day, so even if we weren't trembling or whatever the next morning, he could just credit it to sleep.

"Eventually, he started talking to us, not even mentioning Harry or you two. He asked Dean and I about our family lives, and how we were coping. He's a lonely guy, all his parents ever wanted him to become was a Death Eater. It's like he was raised for it. He started talking about how didn't think he was cut out for the job, starting with his reluctance to kill or torture anybody. Maybe you should give him a chance, there has to be some reason he followed you guys, right?" Luna bit off another piece of her biscuit, giving Fleur a grateful smile. "These taste amazing, you're a really good baker."

"Luna," sighed an exasperated Hermione, placing her hands on the table. "Why should we give him a chance? He's a Death Eater. He needs to be constantly watched or placed in a secure room like he is now."

"I have a new idea!" Ron said triumphantly, looking quite pleased with himself. "We'll interrogate him like Harry said, and then we can obliviate him and send him back to Voldemort, and therefore we can get him off our hands without any danger. How does that sound?"

"I guess it might work. But we need to talk to Harry before we decide on anything. Where is he anyway?" Hermione looked around, expecting to see her best friend in the room.

"He's burying Dobby," explained Bill, watching Hermione's eyes light in horror. "The elf was killed."

"Dobby's… dead?" Hermione exclaimed, dimly remembering her school days of S.P.E.W., how hard she had tried to protect the elves. And one had just died saving them. "How?"

"I don't know the details. But there was a short silver knife sticking out of his chest. Harry didn't tell me anything, he just asked for a spade and started digging." Bill shrugged, taking a tray from Fleur, and walking upstairs. "I'll be checking on Ollivander and Griphook. Don't kill each other, got it?" he joked, talking to Rona and Hermione.

"Let's go help Harry," said Ron, getting up. "We owe Dobby this as well. Come on, Hermione."

Harry had half-finished, already having dug an elf-sized hole about two feet deep, not even noticing when Ron and Hermione approached from behind. Dobby laid with his arms crossed over his chest, and he could be mistaken for being asleep. Harry had removed the blood with magic, wanting to keep the elf clean. The knife was nowhere in sight.

"Hey mate." Ron kneeled down beside Harry, his blue eyes peering into Harry's green ones. "Do you want some help?"

"It should be fine for me to carry on alone," replied Harry, continuing to shovel up more sand. "I want you two to stay here though. I want to talk to you guys about Malfoy."

"Ron and I were actually just discussing that. Ron suggested that we get the information out of him, and then obliviate him. That would mean he can't share this location, right? As long as he can't remember, he won't be able to say anything to You-Know-Who."

"I don't think it's safe to take that kind of risk though. What if You-Know-Who has some kind of Dark magic that lets him retrieve those memories? Bill and Fleur will be in danger, and they might torture them into sharing the locations of other Order of the Phoenix safe houses." Harry put his spade down, resting for a moment. "I'm considering making him stay here."

"Mate, he's a bloody Death Eater!" protested Ron, looking angry again. "And a Malfoy on top of that! I wouldn't put it past him to have some way of escaping without a wand. I'm not having that ferret here where my brother could be in danger."

"If he had a way of escaping, wouldn't he have done it by now?" asked Harry, continuing digging, voice hard and controlled. "I don't think he likes to be at our mercy, you know. He's perfectly aware we hate his guts and could curse him into oblivion."

"It could be a trap," countered Ron, still fully against Draco. "Perhaps he's just going to get close to us, dig up all of our secrets and then run to You-Know-Who! We have got to get rid of him!"

"Ron, he can't have predicted we'd escape. He can't have predicted we'd even show up at his manor," said Hermione, always the logical one. "And I think Luna's got it right. Maybe we could give him a chance, you know, trust him a little bit. What could it hurt?"

"I'm not eager to lose my life just yet, Hermione," spat Ron, the memories of just hours before still clear in his mind. "And I don't want to see you two die either. I'm just trying to protect us! Malfoy's a Slytherin! They can't be trusted!"

"Who says just because somebody's a Slytherin means they're evil?" queried Hermione, eyes glittering viciously, resembling an angry wildcat. "You can't base your prejudices just off somebody's house! Look at Peter Pettigrew! He was a Gryffindor, but he still went to You-Know-Who."

"Just about every single Dark wizard is from Slytherin! Draco Malfoy's a _Death Eater_, Hermione, how many times do I have to tell everybody before they listen?"

"The boy's helpless right now. And he didn't fight when Bill brought him in, he didn't even say anything, and I didn't see him trying to escape. That doesn't make me think of a Death Eater. If we brought in Lucius Malfoy, he'd be fighting, cursing, and simply going wild. He'd probably strangle us all to death. Malfoy hasn't done a single thing."

"Hasn't done a single thing," hissed Ron, repeating Hermione's words. "He nearly killed me _and _Katie Bell last year. Absolutely harmless, isn't he? He's more than capable of evil, Hermione, and you know it."

"You heard Harry though. Malfoy was blackmailed into it- You-Know-Who threatened to kill him and his parents if he failed to kill Dumbledore. And he hesitated in the end. Snape- Snape ended up having to do it, remember?" Snape's name slipped bitterly off her tongue. She had trusted the man, however reluctantly, and he had ended up killing Dumbledore, a symbol of the fight against Voldemort second only to Harry himself.

"Calm down you two. Can't you wait until we get the info out of his mouth instead of saying it for him?" asked Harry, who had dug down another four inches or so. "I'm on both of your sides. I'm not willing to trust him, but he deserves at least a sliver of a chance. That's what Dumbledore would have done."

"Then we'll go to him tomorrow morning I guess," sighed Hermione, looking up at the candle-lit room where she knew Draco resided. The curtain rustled as she peered over, as if somebody had been standing at the window, watching them. She blinked as the curtains stilled. Had Draco been observing them talk? It didn't matter- it wouldn't affect her anyway. Shrugging, Hermione returned to casual conversation with Ron and Harry, or at least as casual it could get with a crazy evil Dark Lord who wished you and your friends dead and Snatchers all over the place, greedy for the reward on your head.

Once he was sure she wasn't watching, Draco walked back over to the window, calmly eyeing the trio. He watched Hermione particularly- even though he hadn't heard her defending him, he felt something stir inside him as he took in her wavy caramel hair, the chocolate tendrils shining silver in the moonlight. He had felt himself flush when she turned to look, disappearing behind a curtain so she wouldn't see him.

Draco watched until Harry had finished digging the grave, feeling a lump in his throat as Harry deposited the departed elf into the sand. He would always miss Dobby. Suddenly, Hermione turned around, and she could have sworn that despite the fact his candle was out, she had seen Draco Malfoy watching them. And for some reason, she liked it.

*I'm still trying to decide how exactly I'm going to pull of the DraMione, but as I'm about to write Chapter 7, I'll have a concrete plan by the time it gets there. Review reply time!

**Mandy1744:** I'm really glad you like it! ^^ I was personally worried that it was crap, but your review really made my day! Thank you!

**Bluesheepy**: Thanks so much for your review! It really encouraged me to keep writing. Thanks so much! XD

Please review! I understand it's annoying, but please take two seconds to leave a kind word! Hope to see you here next Sunday! ~Aeyra*


	3. Chapter 3

*This chapter is like- a 1000 words shorter than the last one... :is disappointed with self: But I hope you all still enjoy it! I'm really happy with all the positive response to this story- you guys make me feel so happy when I get all those wonderful reviews. As usual, replies are at the end, and I really hope you'll enjoy (and review! ;D) this chapter! And another thing: I'm looking for a beta reader. If anyone's interested, please either PM me or apply in a review!*

Chapter 3

Draco awoke to a rapping on his door, golden sunlight pouring through the window, and the aching soreness of his still bound wrists. How he'd managed to sleep like that was a mystery to him- he'd simply keeled over from exhaustion in the middle of the night.

"Malfoy, we're coming in," warned Harry, waving his wand and unlocking the door with an "Alohomora". Hermione and Ron followed him inside, Hermione carrying a small platter with things for their breakfast. There were a few mugs of milk, some biscuits (warm from the oven), and a couple of cookies.

"Potter. Weasley. Granger," acknowledged Draco, the trio surprised that there was no malice behind his voice, and that he hadn't used some of his usual nicknames like 'Pothead', 'Weasel', and 'Mudblood'. "I presume you're here to talk about You-Know -Who?" he asked, sitting up with some difficulty.

"That's right, Malfoy. So you better have some useful information or I'll reconsider hexing your bloody arse," threatened Ron, whose anger had not dwindled over the course of the night.

"I do know some things, but not that many," he admitted, looking almost sheepish. "I guess you could describe my position as the outsider of his Inner Circle. They weren't very happy when I failed to kill Dumbledore and Snape had to do it for me. Nor did my father's recent disappointments help matters."

"We'll start simple," suggested Hermione. "I would use a potion like Veritaserum if I had it, but as I don't have any, I'm going to cast a spell that can tell us if you're lying. However, it won't force you to tell the truth." Ron's expression hinted that he would make up for that.

"By all means. Just forgive me if I stumble a bit- it's difficult to remember everything. What's your first question?" He sounded eager to please, something that threw them off guard. Harry hesitated before clearing his throat, having never expected to get the answers so easily.

"What do you know about You-Know-Who's whereabouts?" posed Harry, wondering if Draco would provide the truth despite the lie-detecting spell casted on him. He was far from trusting the Slytherin, and old habits die hard.

"I believe Bellatrix is the only one he informs on a regular basis. All I know is that he's abroad, and that he's searching for something. I don't think he's even told Bellatrix what. Last I heard, well, the last time I eavesdropped on my parents' talking to Bellatrix, he was scouring the countryside." Hermione waited with bated breath for her enchantment to declare Draco a liar, and was wary when it didn't. Either she had cast it wrong, or he was actually telling them willingly. There was something horrifyingly scary about both options.

"Is You-Know-Who planning any attacks? Do you know how they are trying to find us?" Harry gestured to the three of them, green eyes filled with curiosity. "We already know about the taboo- it's how we ended up in your bloody manor."

Draco cringed at the mention of his home, where had just witnessed the torturing of Hermione Granger. Carefully treading around the mines implanted in the conversation, he replied, "I know that they are constantly tracking and occasionally torturing people suspected of seeing you. These include the students at Hogwarts- that's why Luna was at my house."

"Out of curiosity, why Luna?" mused Hermione, golden-brown eyes confused. "Wouldn't a Gryffindor be a better choice? I know she was part of Dumbledore's Army with us, but what made her a target? I don't want this to happen at all, but why not someone like Ginny?"

Ron's gaze turned towards the ground at the mention of his sister. After hearing about how she'd been caught after trying to steal the fake sword of Gryffindor from Snape's office, he'd always gotten bitter whenever a family member was mentioned. Harry and Hermione knew it was his concern for his siblings' safety, and didn't question it.

Draco coughed uncomfortably, not sure how to answer. He had no idea as well, and with Ron looking ready to kill him, he looked panicky. "Erk- I- I don't know. I wasn't involved in the kidnappings- all I knew was that for some reason, she was at my house after I came back for Easter holidays. And that she was suspected of knowing your location."

"You've been attending Hogwarts?" scoffed Ron, sounding utterly disbelieving and scornful. "A filthy, murdering Death Eater like you? I'm guessing all the other bloody Slytherins are still there?"

"I'll let you know that I've never murdered anyone, Weasley," replied Draco with a hint of a growl. "And I never asked to be a Death Eater- you could never understand. I was born and raised to be a servant of You-Know-Who. Do you know how that feels?"

"Isn't that what you wanted though?" fired back Ron, even more furious than before. "I bet you were always looking forward to joining him, and now you're just cowering out of it because it's too scary for you. You were always a coward, Malfoy."

"Ron, that's enough." Hermione cut in between Draco and Ron- the latter had been getting awfully close to Draco. "We're not here to accuse him of anything, we want crucial evidence that'll aid us in the fight against You-Know-Who. Just put aside your stupid schoolboy rivalry for a few minutes so we can get this over with!"

Ron opened his mouth to protest, but Hermione's sharp glare shut him up immediately. Grumbling, he quieted, taking a biscuit off of the platter and ripping a piece off, silently wishing it was Draco's head. Harry coughed, continuing on with the questioning.

"On the subject of school, what's happened to Hogwarts? We've found out Snape got the position of headmaster, and about the new teachers. They've been rumored to be Death Eaters- the Carrows if I remember correctly."

"It's true. The Carrows are Death Eaters- they're brother and sister. They've taken up the slots of Defense Against the Dark Arts, though I can't remember the last time I learned a defense spell, and Muggle Studies. I don't know what happens in there, but I'm guessing Carrow's lecturing everyone on how inferior muggles and muggle-borns are and such." Draco closed his eyes, recalling the ghastly place Hogwarts had become. Taking a deep breath, he said, "And Hogwarts itself has become a completely different place. They chain up students in the corridors, and sometimes they'll be beaten or tortured instead of a regular detention." Draco gave a hard laugh. "It's mainly people like you who would stand up against Death Eaters without a second's thought about the danger involved."

"Wait, then has Ginny-" breathed Harry, emerald eyes alight with newfound worry for his girlfriend.

"I hate to be the breaker of bad news, but yes Potter, she has. Quite a regular too. She, Neville, and Luna caused the most trouble, though out of that trio, Luna was the least troublesome. Her protesting was mainly spreading the Quibbler around the school and going on about different creatures that were either aiding you or hindering You-Know-Who." Harry and Ron flinched when Draco confirmed their hidden fears, but declined to comment.

"When you said torture, do you mean the Cruciatus Curse?" cut in Hermione, needing to know exactly how far the Death Eaters had mutilated her beloved school.

"Yes, that's part of the punishment. And that's actually part of the curriculum now. Defense Against the Dark Arts is basically practicing dark spells on people either unfortunate, or stupid enough, to land themselves in detention. Or if there's nobody available, Carrow just has us practice on the younger students."

"Are you calling my sister stupid?" accused Ron, eyes filled with the want to punch the living hell out of the blond. "You're the one who's bloody stupid here, you and your stupid Death Eater-"

"Ron, please, just calm down," hushed Hermione, gently laying a hand on his shoulder. "If not for the sake of getting information, Dean and Ollivander are still trying to some rest. Have some consideration for them."

"Can't we just cast the '_muffliato_' charm?" asked an exasperated Ron. "It'll make this a whole lot simpler. Besides, we don't need everyone being able to hear what he might tell us, right?"

"You just want to do it so you can hit me," countered Draco, rolling his eyes. "Seriously, Weasley, you can be such a child at times. You have a former Death Eater on your hands, completely bound up and helpless, who might have important information that could lead to You-Know-Who's defeat, and the first thing you want to do is beat me to a bloody pulp. Listen to Granger or Potter, at least they have some common sense," he drawled, his usual, cold, silky tone appearing for the first time.

Ron opened his mouth, but was stopped once again by Hermione. "Malfoy, please, are you _trying_ to get yourself hurt? Stop infuriating him!"

"Former Death Eater?" Harry repeated Draco's words dubiously, trying to grasp the meaning of it. "Are you saying you're not a Death Eater anymore?"

"Well, technically I still am, but if I had any choice in the matter I'd instantly quit the job. I've been trying to figure out ways to remove my Dark Mark- in secret of course, my father would kill me if he found out- and nothing works. Being a Death Eater is a pain in the ass."

"Draco Malfoy, are you trying to tell us you don't want to be a Death Eater?" asked a stunned Hermione, face blank with surprise.

"Um, why would I want to be one?" he replied, confusing them even more.

"You've always referenced wanting to be one while we were in school. You were like- the ultimate You-Know-Who supporter. Our worst enemy." Hermione twirled her brown hair, eyes flickering with doubt. She recalled their sixth year, how much more depressed Draco had gotten, how scared he'd always seem, how pale, how shaken. He hadn't been nearly such a pain- only a very intriguing, troubling puzzle compared to previous years.

"If you grew up listening to my father prattle about how great You-Know-Who is, and how inferior blood traitors, muggles, and mud-" Draco caught himself. "Well, muggleborns, are, then you'll grow up believing it. I born in You-Know-Who's regime, and my father laid out my destiny before I was even born. I was to become a Death Eater- oh yes, anything less would be a disgrace. I would be right next to him in the ranks, I would help bloody exterminate all unworthy, inferior beings like muggles and muggleborns. Could I have turned out any differently?" asked Draco scathingly, anger bubbling up inside him as he remembered his childhood. And that compared to other dark things, were nothing in comparison.

Hermione felt pity, real pity for Draco. It was obvious from his tone alone that he realized he'd been tricked, duped, hoodwinked into believing the wretched, warped beliefs of his father, and was suffering from it. Even if Draco actually wanted to be a Death Eater in the beginning, the idea was surely planted into his mind by his sinister father.

"Well didn't you notice when you got to Hogwarts that Hermione is the smartest witch in our year? Where's the inferiority in that?" challenged Ron. "Or were you too thick-headed to notice?"

"Oh, I noticed all right. And unfortunately for me, father did too. Malfoys are supposed to be first in everything- you can hardly imagine his displeasure when I came home second to a lowly Mudblood."

"I dare you to say that again, Malfoy!" Ron drew his wand out.

"Let him continue! He's not insulting me- can't you hear the sarcasm Ron?" Hermione looked back at Draco once she finished her quick lecture. "You can continue."

"And risk getting my head bit off? No thanks, Granger," drawled Draco, rolling his eyes. He didn't need these people to know everything about him just yet. Sure he was at their mercy and everything, but he still had to maintain some dignity. "I prefer myself whole and beautiful." He haughtily raised his head, giving them an arrogant smirk.

"Must you always be such an insufferable prat, Malfoy?" joked Harry, sighing, though in good humor. "Okay, one more question. Why did you follow us? Why did you grab onto my cloak?"

Draco considered this for a second, mulling over the question in his head, trying to decide on an appropriate answer. He didn't quite know, his mind was shouting out a variety of different answers. A want to escape, the desire to redeem himself, and just the unexplainable urge to find a _purpose_. That was, if they accepted him of course.

"I wonder if you'll believe me." He gave a beatific smile before continuing, his silvery eyes, like piercing moonlight, locking onto the trio's. Opening his mouth, he resumed, his words shocking them."I want to join your side."

*Now as promised, review replies! ^^

**IRuleUK: Your review seriously made my day when I got it! I know I already replied through PM because I simply couldn't help myself, but thanks again for such an encouraging review!**

**Just Your Above Average Malfoy: Yay! And BTW, I love Greek Yogurt too. ;D**

**J. LarissaH: Yeah, when I was planning this I was trying to think of a plotline I hadn't seen yet... And suddenly the chapter at Malfoy Manor just popped into my head. I hope a week was soon enough!**

**Somnus Vera: Thank you! I hope I'll manage to make it stay good! XD**

**bluesheepy: I'm glad you love it! ^^**

**forbiddenluv: Update is here! I hope you liked it!**

**RisingFire: I'm glad everybody seems in character- that was like, my biggest problem. *paces room wondering if characters are acting like themselves* I hope you liked this chapter!**

Just another reminder, if you'd like to help me beta this story, please let me know! (and review!)^^ I hope you liked the chapter, and see you next week!*


	4. Chapter 4

*This chapter is longer than I thought it was! XD I started high school. :3 It's fun, but I already have tons of homework. The schedule won't be delayed for at least another month because I have that many chapters set aside, but it's probably a guarantee that there will be weeks without chapters once school takes it's toll. I'll try my hardest to keep that from happening, but real life comes first! And now here's the chapter! Don't forget to review at the end! (it increases the writing speed. ;D*

Chapter 4

"You can't be bloody serious," choked out Harry after an awkward moment of silence, staring blankly at Draco's somewhat serene smirk. "You can't be bloody serious!"

"Am I that evil of a guy?" asked Draco, raising one pale gold eyebrow. "I know I must have done some pretty nasty things back in school, but was it to the point where you can't even believe me when I'm being sincere?" His expression was carefully balanced between uncertainty and the sarcastic, haughty air only Draco could pull off.

"Yes!" Ron blurted out after figuring out how to speak again, tongue struggling to form the words he wanted to say. "You're _Draco_ bloody _Malfoy_! The school bully, the prince of Slytherin, the would-be murderer of Dumbledore, Death Eater, and that's only the tip of this evil iceberg! You've never given us a reason to trust you, _so why should we?_"

Draco actually looked lost for words, silver tongue struggling to form a sentence, and when it did, it came out strangled, as if he were forcing out every syllable. "You shouldn't. Doesn't mean I can't wish, does it?"

They all sat in stony silence, Draco's features frozen in a dark, stormy glare at the foot of his bed, Ron curling his fingers in and out of the shape of a fist, and Harry simply gaped, green eyes filled with stunned disbelief. Draco Malfoy admitting to defeat?

Hermione was the only who maintained her normal composure, her head whirring as she paced through the possibilities and consequences of their next move. They could simply push Draco aside, and now harm would be done, right? But Draco was smart, he was second in their year, and had actually beat her- her, Hermione Granger, in potions. He was cunning, he knew plenty of spells, and given some info and a good dose of courage (and an assurance of his loyalties), he could be a valuable, powerful asset to their side. And she believed in second chances- after a few precautions.

"What would you be willing to do for a spot on this side?" inquired Hermione politely, as casually as if she were asking the time of day. "How far would you go to prove we can trust you?"

"Well, what do you want me to do? Not something life-threatening I hope?" replied Draco just as steadily, steely eyes locked onto Hermione's. "Because I'd be much more useful alive."

Ron coughed, and it sounded suspiciously like "And a lot less annoying dead!" Hermione shot him a pointed look, and he gave her an innocent shrug. Harry gave Ron a jab in the stomach, his silent warning to not get the young witch angry.

Ignoring the two, Hermione snapped her attention back to Draco. "I'd hope so, Malfoy. And my task- well, it depends on how you'd define 'life-threatening'. For example, what would your father do if he heard you just now?"

Fidgeting at the mention of his father, Draco shivered as he visualized what he had seen countless times before- flashes of gruesome torture, a memory of countless hours of pitiful moans, terrifying screams, and then silence. Dead silence. Gulping, he said, "He'd probably kill me. After putting on a little show of my screams."

"Your own father would kill you?" said Harry, interrupting the conversation that seemed to only contain Hermione and the Slytherin. "You're his son!"

"I guess I didn't state clearly enough that he doesn't give a hippogriff's arse whether I'm dead or not. He probably wouldn't mind it either- a proclamation like that would force him to disown me. And then to him, I am no more than just any common, filthy, disposable muggle. He doesn't care, Potter. Never did, never will." The last sentence was said with a look if longing, and Draco seemed unhappy. There really wasn't a better word for it. Maybe lonely. But it was obvious from his forlorn expression that he'd always wished his father would care. Someday.

"So then, what's your plan, Hermione?" piped up Ron, looking ready to please. "And what's it got to do with his father?"

"Malfoy- is there anything that would convince your father without a doubt that you are- daresay- the writer of a letter perhaps?" hinted Hermione, eyes twinkling as she watched the boys realize one by one her plans.

"You want me to tell him I'm betraying him and You-Know-Who and therefore insuring if I ever go back I'll be killed on the spot?" chuckled Draco queasily, wishing he could tug at his collar or something to ease the tension he felt. "Sounds quite like a Slytherin style of thinking to me."

"Slytherins do not own sneaky, cunning, somewhat evil plans, Malfoy." Hermione rolled her eyes, then immediately caught herself, looking back towards Ron and Harry as she found herself being mesmerized by Draco's silvery eyes, as if the cool gray depths were luring her in.

"I didn't say that." Draco gave a small chuckle, sounding a little frightened. He'd have liked the second option to fall back on if this happened to fail, but he couldn't prioritize his back-up plan, could he? "I just thought it was funny, coming from Gryffindors. Aren't you supposed to be impulsive and jumping into danger and whatever without thinking?"

"Just answer the bloody question, Malfoy," demanded Ron, murderous rage flooding his face. "Will you write the letter or not, and I want your answer in five seconds or I'll hex you!"

"Yes, yes, I'll do it!" said Draco hastily, stomach turning. Did Gryffindors ever give people time to think things over? "However, it'll be hard to write with my hands tied behind my back. Not to mention if I try my handwriting will be ghastly. Father'd never believe it was me." He gave a cheeky grin- he could only fight being a malicious, sarcastic bastard for so long.

"We'll unbind you, but for the record, if you try anything at all, we're handing you over to Ron." Hermione held her wand steady and pointed at Draco. "Deal?"

"Deal." The rope-like strings that bound his wrists together disappeared in a snap and flash of blue-gray smoke, and Draco stretched, partially for his comfort, after all, his arms were aching, and partially to tick them off. Just because he was changing allegiances didn't mean he had to drop this hobby.

With another flick of her wand, Hermione casually conjured a scroll of yellow parchment and a nice white quill, an ink bottle floating next to it. Draco reached out for him, the tips of his long, pale fingers grazing her skin as he pulled the paper and quill back to the bed where he sprawled out in a lazy manner. Hermione could have swore there was a spark when he had touched her, even if the moment of contact was for just the slightest moment.

"So," drawled Draco, holding the quill in front of him, a blot of ink spilling onto a corner of the parchment. "What should I write? I'm sure you three have the whole thing planned out, betrayal and the 'I'm joining Harry Potter' worked out. Just give me the word and I'll write."

"Well," started Hermione, the faintest of a blush on her cheeks. "I was thinking that I'd let you figure it out. The letter has to sound like you, hasn't it?"

"Yeah, I doubt you could imitate the eloquence that is Draco Malfoy," he joked with a sneer. "Or the evil prat part of it as well."

"Like you could charm a toad, Malfoy," retorted Ron.

"Hermione, is that a good idea? What if he has a secret code or something? He could give away our location. I doubt he'd even care if he bartered all our lives away. Shouldn't we tell him what to say?" argued Harry, glaring at Malfoy with suspicion and dread. What was up with Hermione- didn't she remember this boy had tried to make their lives a misery for six- well, five if you counted the fact he hadn't been nearly as annoying in sixth year, other than that nagging, scary certainty the Slytherin had become a Death Eater- years?

"How about this then?" Draco's eyes twinkled with mischief. If he was going to have this chance to write his father a letter, he was going to put in retribution- perhaps it was childish really, but it would feel satisfying- for all those long, painful years. "Dear Father, You fucking bastard-"

"Malfoy, we're writing a letter announcing your betrayal! Not some silly note filled with stupid insults!" Hermione fumed, though she couldn't keep herself from smiling a bit. No matter how odd or cold it was, the boy did have a sense of humor.

"Fine then. How about 'Dear Father, I sincerely regret to announce that I have defected from the Dark Side and have decided to join Harry Potter in his request to defeat the Dark Lord. No hard feelings, just wanted you to know. With Love, Your Son, Draco." Draco read it dramatically, snorting, imagining his father's expression at reading a letter like that. "Don't tell me you want to send him and You-Know-Who that kind of crappy bullshit. It doesn't sound like me at all. "

Hermione blushed- that had been her plan, but Draco had made it sound so stupid."Well, it needn't be so melodramatic, Malfoy. And I'm sure it would be great if we weren't listening to you saying it in such a sarcastic, uncaring tone you git! I need you to be serious here!"

"Then what should he write? Apparently sincerity just doesn't work for him, and what he really wants to write is 'Dear Father, You Fucking Bastard'. What angle should he approach from? What angle sounds believable?" questioned Harry, thinking hard. "Malfoy, what kind of tone do you usually write to your father with?"

"The first one." They all stared at him in slightly amused surprise- even Ron's raging anger paused. "I'm not even joking. That's always my salutation."

"And how does he take this...?" Hermione gestured for Draco to continue. "Do you know?"

"Well, he's never written back if that's what you're asking. However, according to my mother he just throws my letters into the fire once he gets them. He always lights the fire when he sees my owl. Sevyn... I think I miss the feathery furball already." His gray eyes warmed with pleasant nostalgia, and he glanced up at the ceiling, remembering the Great Hall and the majestic sight of one of his only faithful friends, his eagle owl. The thing had to be smarter than Crabbe and Goyle combined. _No wonder I like that owl_ _so much_, he mused. _Actually has a brain...__  
><em>  
>"Earth to Malfoy!" snapped Hermione, clapping her hands together in front of his face, causing him to leap back in shock. "If you did start your letter- um- that way, then what would come next?"<p>

"Um, after the 'you fucking bastard' part, I was thinking along the lines of 'I've finally gotten sick of you and this pathetic, lowly life of a Death Eater and decided to leave for something cooler. From now on I'll be helping Harry Potter, you know, the guy who's trying to kill your Master, take down You-Know-Who and I'm going to have fun doing it. Send You-Know-Who my regards and tell him there's no point in chasing after me unless he wants a good round of curses, hexes, and a good old serving of my sharp, silver tongue. Hoping you'll wither away and die, Draco." He raised a tentative silvery blond brow. "Well, I'm waiting."

_How can he still sound so calm and annoying when he's signing a death wish?_Hermione's inner voice asked, curious and infuriated. Draco Malfoy had always been an insolvable puzzle for her- she'd always wished to be able to figure out what was happening behind that cold mask of his. "Well, do you think he would take it seriously? Because we don't know your father very well- at least not outside the lines of the fact he wants us dead and he's a murderous bastard."

"Seriously- maybe. Angry- definitely," said Draco, looking satisfied. "I've always wanted to get him pissed off and not have some hideous curse cast on my being. It makes me feel so much better."

"You really are serious about the cursing, aren't you Malfoy?" said Harry. One look into the split second crack in the cool facade confirmed his thinking. "On a similar note, if he catches us- I mean you- wouldn't you have more than just some 'hideous curse' to be afraid of?"

"That's why you'll have to win, Potter. Because I'd personally like to live to see my eighteenth birthday, and all the birthdays after that," he explained in a matter-of-fact tone. "I'm sure you can handle it, can't you?"

The challenging glint in his misty orbs had Harry remembering a good three years of Quidditch matches against Draco, how that same infuriating smirk would drive his desire to win, would force him to win just so he could wipe that smirk right off Draco's face. And now Draco was challenging him, not to see who could catch the snitch faster, but to defeat the greatest Dark wizard of all time. For some reason, adrenaline seemed to start pulsing through his veins.

"You bet I'm going to win, Malfoy," he said, smiling. It was good to feel confidence again. Strange that it was instilled into him by a boy he would have once declared as 'mortal enemy', but it felt good nonetheless. "After all, when does the hero ever lose?"

"That's the spirit, Potter," drawled Draco, scribbling on the parchment with a well-inked quill. "When you were forced into my manor, you looked like you'd given up or something. Glad to see that's not the case." He signed 'Draco' with a flourish, his handwriting resembling neat calligraphy.

"I'll take that," said Hermione, reaching for the parchment. "And now us three shall go downstairs, check it over, and then send it to your dad. In the meantime, I'm re-binding you, Malfoy."

"Please no," he begged, though he would never have admitted it afterwards. "Come on, I won't break anything. And I can't get decent sleep with my hands behind my back."

Hermione hesitated, and then put her wand back into her pocket. "Fine then. But one wrong move and it's a Full-Body Bind on you."

"Sure. Fine by me. But exactly how are you classifying 'a wrong move'-"

"Malfoy, could you just shut up? I'm sick of hearing your bloody voice already!" groaned Ron, who was starting to drag Hermione and Harry out the door. "And you'll know it's a wrong move if I come back up and hex you."

The door slammed behind the trio, and Draco almost simultaneously toppled onto the bed, pale gold locks spilling across the bed sheets. Now that those three were gone and the door locked from intruders, he could drop his mask and face the impending consequences.

His father would be beyond angry. As in ready to cast the Killing Curse onto him without any hesitation. Bellatrix would be eager for a new target and she had never really liked him anyways. His mother... he thought that inside, she might actually be pleased. She had begged Draco not to become a Death Eater the year before, and he, lost in visions of impossible, unachievable glory and power, had tossed her aside and presented himself to Voldemort.

Staring down at his Dark Mark, he vaguely wondered how strong the magic was. When it burned, it meant Voldemort was calling him, but he could refuse it, right? He knew Snape had- it was one of the main reasons Bellatrix considered the man a traitor. However, could he be forced to return? Could it harm him? Kill him? It was a mysterious thing.

I wonder if there's any way to get rid of it... Granger might know something, reading all those books day after day, and it might finally make Potty and Weasel trust me... pondered Draco, tracing the contours of the skull and snake. He remembered the flash of pain when he had been branded, marked, and wondered what streak of idiocy convinced him to do it. It was the worst choice he'd ever made.

But he was turning back now. If there was any way to make up for his sins, it was to help destroy Voldemort. It was to help the Boy-Who-Lived. And he'd already declared his change in allegiance with the letter. There would be no turning back.

"What do you mean we're not actually sending it?" asked Ron in a hushed whisper, eyeing the letter clutched tight in Hermione's hand. "Wasn't that the entire point?"

"Sort of, but not really. If Malfoy truly becomes our ally, isn't it more useful if he can spy on the Death Eaters? It'd be like Snape."

"That turned so well," said Ron sarcastically, blue eyes tight. "You want to know what happened to Dumbledore because of that?"

"That's different. Snape- well, he trusted Snape too much. We'll let Malfoy join us, but we'll throw him out the moment we have our first doubt. Snape had too much information. And I'm not letting Malfoy go back unless it's truly necessary."

"Hermione, I don't think this is a good idea. Don't you think he saw through it? Why else would he make such a big joke out of it? And he needs to be serious if he wants to come with us," said Harry, throwing a concerned gaze at her. "I don't think this is a good decision."

"Don't you trust my judgement?" protested Hermione, slapping her hands down on the table.

"Well first you'd have to give us your bloody reasoning, 'Mione," countered Ron darkly, clearly still upset over Draco's proposition, and even more so over Hermione's obvious acceptance.

"He's not lying. My charm would have sensed it. It ties the tongue of the receiver if they tell a lie in a period of twenty minutes. And his tongue didn't get knotted up as you observed yourself, Ron," explained Hermione, quickly growing sick of his unconditional hatred of Draco Malfoy. "There's also something in his voice. He's desperate, just like we are. But he wanted to escape, and now that he's done it, he wants to fulfill the next step. Joining us and finding a proper purpose."

"If his father asked him to trick us, 'I want to join your side' isn't exactly a lie, now is it?" inquired Harry, who was siding with Ron. "Hermione, just let it go, please. We'll just leave him here and forget about it all."

For a second, she was tempted. It wasn't hard to remember her own old boiling hatred for him- her seething flames of anger as he spat out that filthy insult of 'Mudblood', her desire to punch him (and the result of that), how his cockiness ticked her off, and how he always managed to get beneath her skin. But something felt different about him today. He had not insulted her once. Her, target of all Mudblood jokes, previously subjected almost daily to a good serving of Draco's never ceasing insults. Somehow, with that strange, unreadable glint in his gray eyes, that arrogant, yet toned down voice, the slight winces as his father was mentioned, everything that had changed, had made her trust him.

Trust Draco Malfoy. Just a day ago, she would have scoffed at the idea. But then again, just a day ago she was trapped in Malfoy Manor, and he had stood there, watching, watching as Bellatrix tortured her. Doing nothing to help her. Letting her writhe in pain. Allowing her to curl into a ball to fight that fire that threatened to consume her, not even lifting a finger. However, his quiet, weak refusal to identify them might as well have given them the moment for Bellatrix to see the sword and delay the arrival of Voldemort. So technically, they owed him. Kind of. The circle was slightly confusing anyway. Nevertheless, her resolve was clear and unwavering.

"I trust him enough," she repeated, enunciating every syllable. "I think we should let him into this little group of three and help us. We can kick him out if he gets too suspicious. And for all he hopefully knows, his father and Yog-Know-Who are out there prepared to murder him." Murder. Somehow it sounded more vicious than kill. It made Draco sound like the victim he was. No matter how strong he acted, he was just as wronged as them.

"Then let them. Hermione, have you forgotten everything? He's done everything he could to make our lives a misery, and you'll trust his word over ours?" Ron's words stung because they were true. Draco had done several, annoying things for the sole purpose of his own entertainment.

_But a person can change, right?_she thought, trying to will the idea to her best friends, not being able to force out the forbidden words, mouth gaping and then closing shut. She tried again, and only silence came out. In a weak whisper, she declared, "Yes. Yes, Ron, I will. I know what he's done but the past is history."

"He's a Death Eater! He's got the bloody Dark Mark branded right on his arm! He'll run off the You-Know-Who once he gets his filthy hands on a wand! Hermione, see sense! I don't know what's gotten into you, but you're acting mental." Ron's hands slammed on the table.

"I personally believe in second chances," retaliated Hermione, voice stronger, somehow more powerful and compelling than Ron's wild protests. "One mistake on his part and we'll dump him with the Order and that's that!" Her face was in front of Ron's, both of their features lit with flames of anger.

"Oy! You two, that's enough." Harry stepped between, feeling very much as he did during sixth year, the middleman caught between his once-again feuding friends. "Stop it!"

Hermione sat back in her seat with a lofty 'humph' while Ron merely glowered, Harry sighing.

"Whose side are you on, Harry?" asked Hermione after a tense moment of quiet. "Mine, or his?" She jerked her pointer finger at Ron, hissing out every word.

Merely feet away, all of the current inhabitants of the cabin (minus the bed-ridden and the imprisoned) stared at the trio, not wanting to intervene in the obviously heated battle. They watched with interest, breaths bated as they anticipated Harry's answer.

Harry's verdant emerald eyes darted back and forth between Hermione and Ron, torn between them. If he chose one, he'd surely make the other his enemy. But he couldn't exactly back out- and truthfully, he'd chosen a side. In a flat tone, he replied, "I don't trust Malfoy no matter what he says. I'm with Ron. A snake is still a snake no matter what it may say otherwise."

Hermione stood speechless, mouth not making any noise, resembling a fish. "And there's no way to get any of you two to side with me? Nothing me or Malfoy can do to make you believe me?"

"Nothing Malfoy does will convince us, right Harry?"

"R-right." Harry swallowed down his guilt. Even though he didn't agree with Hermione, it didn't feel right to isolate her. But he'd made his choice, and was sticking to it as best he could.

"I'm going upstairs," announced Hermione stoically, walking smartly towards the stairs.

"Why?" asked Harry curiously. However, he knew there could be only one thing she could be interested in up there...

"I'm going to talk to Malfoy."

*And now, Review Replies like usual! :3

**IRuleUK: I'm glad I was able to make it sound believable! The entire time I was writing, I was like 'I hope they don't sound too OOC... ... ...' so your review really cheered me up! Thank you! **

**ilovecupcakes xxx: First of all, I love your username. 3 Cupcakes are amazing. And second of all, thanks for your encouraging review! I'm glad you thought it was believable as well! :D**

**DangerousLiving: Thanks for the review! And updated! XD**

**Just Above Your Average Malfoy: I'm glad you thought it was a good cliffhanger. :D Greek Yogurt food fight... *throws glob* Start! XDDD**

**forbiddenluv: Thanks for pointing it out. I believe I fixed it. :3**

**J. Larissa H: It hasn't been more than a week! (unless I'm off by a few hours...) Yup, I couldn't resist letting Draco tease Ron! Mainly because I think he's so much better than Ron! XD And it seems so Draco-ish... Glad you love it! **

Hope you liked reading the chapter! Review, and see you next week!*


	5. Chapter 5

*'kay! Your week's wait is over! :D Are you glad? XD I'm glad for all the positive response to the last chapter. :3 I'm people are enjoying this little fic that I love writing. It makes it so much more fun! (not that it wasn't, but even more fun!) 9th grade isn't affecting me too much yet, but I did have homework this weekend. I can only guess that it gets much worse. I'll try to give heads-ups if I have a big project, but remember, eventually, there probably won't be weekly updates. But hopefully, there will.*

Chapter 5

Rain pattered softly on the windows, turning the sky a dull shade of gray, reflecting the mood of the desperate boy sitting alone in the room. Draco stared vapidly out to the sea, wondering which direction the manor was, from where he had fled. He wasn't regretting his choice, but- the Manor had been his home for sixteen years.

And it'd probably be a while before he'd ever see it again. Even if he did, it wouldn't be the same. Not even close. He wanted the Manor the way it had been when he was too young for his father to influence him, when his mother and Dobby had taken him out to the rose garden to play, the lovely fragrance of the crimson red flowers drifting through the air. When he had been small, red was a color of beauty, a color that represented the beautiful, beautiful flowers, the delicate scarlet petals that were soft to the touch.

As he grew older, the color had come to represent blood and violence. The blood flowed from his broken skin when his father's rage became unrestrained, the red hand marks that at times had covered him, reminders of his father's control over him, the red stains to his vision as he himself became angry, felt the need to lash out at somebody, a way to release the pain. He wanted the red to represent all that was beautiful again, something that could make him smile.

He vaguely heard the screaming from downstairs, the high-pitched shrill of Hermione, the lower, fierce bellowing of Ron, and it registered that they were probably arguing due to his… desire. There was no way the freckled, red-headed, daft Weasley was going to want him in the group, so that could only mean Hermione was supporting him. It made him feel both accepted and yet guilty at the same time. He hadn't meant to cause a rift in the Golden Trio.

He stretched out on the wide windowsill, balancing on the thin ledge easily, the windowsill basically having been _his_ place in his Slytherin dorms, though it was quite a change to be seeing the sky instead of the murky green depths of the lake. There was no sunlight in the Slytherin dorms, and it made the whole place dependent on firelight, light that made the shadows darker, and the contrast starker.

_Perhaps that's one reason we're more evil…_ he thought wryly, thinking about all the other houses, all of their dorms located at the tops of towers instead of _in the dungeons_.

The screaming stopped, and he heard footsteps crashing up the staircase in a rushed frenzy. It was just one pair of steps though, and he could guess who it was. The sound was still delicate, even if it was filled with almost palpable pain, and he could hear slight sniffles as the pounding on the wooden floor stopped just outside the door.

Hermione walked in, rubbing slightly red eyes, tendrils of shining dark honey hair falling onto her shoulders, and even though she looked the picture of a damsel in distress, her eyes showed she was anything but helpless. They shone with a fierce, unmatchable intensity, an intensity that seemed to be focused elsewhere, and yet on Draco at the same time. Her expression was soft- a frown and creased down eyebrows.

"Sorry, Granger," Draco muttered, twiddling his fingers as he stared at the ground, not wanting to meet Hermione's dark caramel orbs. "I didn't mean for my ... wish to end up in a fight."

Hermione stared at him in surprise, an apology having been the last of her expectations. She'd been anticipating perhaps his royal, arrogant swagger, a snap of his sharp tongue, but not a murmured 'Sorry' spoken with a loneliness she didn't know Draco Malfoy possessed. "It's okay," she replied quietly after a moment, settling on the bed so she she was perpendicular to the lounging Draco. "They- they're just stubborn. They refuse to get their heads out of the past- it's kind of funny seeing they've never stayed awake for even one whole History of Magic class."

Draco smiled, appreciating her attempt at lighthearted humor as the rain started pouring outside, making it even darker in the candlelit room. "Yeah. I guess they learn better when they get pissed off. Perhaps Binns should shout insults at them while teaching- I should have a list somewhere."

Hermione gave a giggle, imagining the boring, monotone Professor Binns strutting around the classroom bullying his students while teaching the inner workings of the Goblin Wars. It would have definitely made class more entertaining. "Maybe it would help them." She paused and directed her gaze to the floorboards. "There's just something different about you, something that's changed between our time at Hogwarts and now. I can't really put my tongue on it, but something has. Why? I want a real reason, everything."

Draco was quiet, unspeaking for a few moments. "What I said before holds true. I wanted to leave. I couldn't stand the life of a Death Eater anymore. All my life, my father glorified the position, making it sound like the greatest thing that could ever happen to a person. I listened, and for sixteen years, it was what I wanted. And then... I was in, four weeks after my sixteenth birthday."

"What was it like?" asked Hermione, envisioning the snake-faced Voldemort surrounded by his cloaked, masked Death Eaters, and Draco having the hideous mark burned permanently onto his skin. She shuddered. "Did it..." An uncomfortable pause, "hurt?"

"Well, as much as one would expect. But making this," He rolled up his sleeve, revealing the blackened skin, "isn't just a simple spell. The shape first must be traced in blood, the blood of the receiver. After all, what good is a servant if they won't give their blood up to their master?" He frowned, letting his sleeve fall back down his arm again, hiding it. "He took a knife and traced out the Dark Mark, and then cast a spell. Revincio latro erga ipsimus signum incendo. It hurt like hell... Like the Cruciatus Curse. And you know how that feels."

She nodded reluctantly, trying to clear head from the barrage of memory. Hermione remembered how much pain it was- it was being plunged in a pool of acid, it was being dropped onto a bed of metal spikes, it was burning at the stake, it was being torn apart piece by piece, waiting, wishing for death to grant freedom from the torture. But at least the Cruciatus Curse doesn't last forever... You can't erase the Dark Mark.

"But afterwards... I felt accomplished. I was going to be the hero, the dark knight when I slew Dumbledore. But it was harder than I could have imagined. My attempts went very, very wrong." Both locked their eyes on each other, thinking of Katie Bell's terrible accident and Ron's almost fatal poisoning. "It was a hard year. When You-Know-Who warned me failure meant death, I paid him no heed. I'd succeeded most of the time, so I didn't realize how serious the threat was until the deadline started coming closer. I broke down from fear and despair. Potter- he- he found me crying in the bathroom. One time of several."

"That time where you tried to curse him- but he got you first," stated Hermione simply, both understanding that neither curse need be mentioned. "Go on."

"There's not too much after that that you don't know. I let the Death Eaters in, and then I cornered Dumbledore in that tower. But I couldn't kill him- I had my wand out, him defenseless, alone, and even though I thought I wanted to do it, my hand kept on shaking, like it was rebelling against me. And then he started talking to me, offering me and my family sanctuary and safety, and I refused. It was a stupid decision."

Hermione didn't say anything, because in her mind she agreed. What had driven him to force away an offer that could have freed him from the consuming darkness? Probably fear, but she imagined if placed in the exact situation, she would have accepted. However, a little voice in the back of her mind whispered that he wasn't as strong as she was.

"But at least now you can see that you were wrong. That's step one," comforted Hermione, rocking back and forth. "And now you're trying to make up for it. That takes courage, and I'm glad you chose to do it. Not many people have the strength to back out."

"And those who do usually die. I've only heard of a handful of Death Eaters who truly left- Snape's not one of them- and they were all murdered soon after. Once you leave, how fast you run decides how much time you have left. I think some of the names were Igor Karkaroff and Regulus Black. You'll have heard of Karkaroff, he was Durmstrang headmaster, but did you know Regulus was-"

"Sirius's little brother. He told us before he- you know-" Her voice cracked, remembering Sirius as he laughed, as he fought, as he fell through the curtain.

"Sirius Black..." said Draco, pondering a question. "Snape was accusing you three of helping him escape back in third year. I want to know, did you?"

It was so strange for Hermione to be sitting alone with Draco Malfoy, the boy she had despised, and holding a peaceful, nearly friendly conversation. It was like six years had melted away like ice and disappeared, leaving only the present for the two to judge each other.

"It's an interesting story, and it'll probably get confusing," chuckled Hermione, recalling the jumble of events, an entertaining story she hadn't told to many people at all. It was a shame- in light of now, the events were child's play, fun almost once she looked back on it. "First off, do you know what a time-turner is?"

They spent the next hour recollecting old, now fond school memories, laughing together, smiling, and almost forgetting the harsh rejection of Ron. "Funny, isn't it? School would have been so much more fun if only you'd been pleasant," joked Hermione, jabbing Draco playfully in the shoulder.

He rolled his eyes. "That would have been no fun for me then, now would it? What's school without the bad, devastatingly attractive Slytherin Prince?" He gave an alluring grin, flicking his head so his silver-blond hair was moved out of his eyes, a warm gray.

"Hermione?" asked a voice from outside, and they recognized it as Harry's. "Look, I'm sorry for not coming up sooner, but Ron wouldn't let me leave." He stared skeptically at the two, struggling with himself a little bit. "I was... eavesdropping for a few minutes. You really have changed, haven't you Malfoy? If you were faking there's no way you'd let yourself be alone in a room with Hermione for an hour without exploding or something. I still don't completely trust you, but we've been paranoid about everyone and everything these past few months. However, I think I'm ready to extend the olive branch here." Harry held out his hand, making himself swallow all his doubts. He trusted Hermione's judgment. "Shake on it?"

"Sure, Potter. You know, it's taken over six years for you to return that handshake." Draco grinned maliciously. "You're just a tad bit little slow."

Harry ignored the comment, choosing to roll his eyes instead. "You started your offer by insulting my friends. Not the best way to go about making friends- more like enemies."

"Well, I succeeded there at least, didn't I?" replied Draco jokingly, eyebrows furrowing as he remembered an important detail. "Potter, Granger, how's the Weasel going to take this?"

"Don't call him Weasel," admonished Hermione, school-girl reflexes quickly returning.

"Sorry, force of habit!" chuckled Draco. Truth be told, he had gotten sick of referring to the Weasel as Weasley... It just felt much too abnormal. "I've been trying to be all nice and eloquent, but one slip-up isn't too bad, right?"

"The nice and eloquent part was actually unnerving me, Malfoy," admitted Harry. "It was way too unnatural."

"So it's okay to call you Pothead?" asked Draco mischievously, a smirk playing on his lips.

"No way!" protested Harry. "And about Ron... He'll come around, but in the meantime, we'll try to keep him from hexing you."

"Try?" repeated Draco. "That's so comforting. Knowing him I'll be barfing slugs- and there's not even the reassurance of a broken wand." Draco gave a dramatic sigh.

"Now that would be karma stabbing you in the back," giggled Hermione, remembering second year, able to laugh now that so much time had passed. "You did deserve it."

"I did not! You insulted me first! I didn't buy my way onto the Slytherin team!" he suddenly protested, causing Harry raise an eyebrow.

"You didn't? Then why did your father buy all those brooms?"

"A Malfoy never misses a chance to show off his wealth. Besides, I wanted to make the team better- they were hopeless on those old, crummy excuses for broomsticks."

"Harry, what are you doing talking to that bloody ferret?" An angry, ready-to-murder Ronald Weasley entered through the door.

*Review Replies!

**Mirtha: Well, Harry always sides with Ron, but he didn't make his mind up completely if you know what I mean. He chose a side, but realized he was wrong. :3**

** : (you didn't leave a name) I'm glad that made you laugh. :3 I was just sitting and trying to figure out how to make it funny, so I'm really happy you thought it was hilarious. XD **

**IRuleUK: It's nice to know I'm getting close to SuperMegaFoxyAwesomeHot. XD And yes, Dramione does rule. Don't feel too pressured to read this, remember, real life always comes first! (says the girl who's procrastinating on her homework... It's not due for a week, but...*twitches nervously*) **

**forbiddenluv: Yup! Hermione's awesome! XD**

**wolvesdrinktea: I'm really happy that everyone says I write the characters in character. :3 I thought I'd completely screw up, seeing this is my first HP fic and all, but I'm really glad that's not the case! Next chapter is here! (and hopefully you cared more about that than the reply to your review... ;D)**

So, any chance of a review for your DraMione loving fanfic author? XD If you feel like it, please, please, please leave a review! It's encouraged. *nods* See you next week!*


	6. Chapter 6

*I have like- five projects for Social Studies all due in the same week... And procrastination is _never _a good thing. So I spent most of today working on that... ... So... that's why this chapter is posted like- an hour later than usual. XD But enough about me. Time for your next installment of 'Escape'! :3*

Recap:

_"No way!" protested Harry. "And about Ron... He'll come around, but in the meantime, we'll try to keep him from hexing you."_

_"Try?" repeated Draco. "That's so comforting. Knowing him I'll be barfing slugs- and there's not even the reassurance of a broken wand." Draco gave a dramatic sigh._

_"Now that would be karma stabbing you in the back," giggled Hermione, remembering second year, able to laugh now that so much time had passed. "You did deserve it."_

_"I did not! You insulted me first! I didn't buy my way onto the Slytherin team!" he suddenly protested, causing Harry raise an eyebrow._

_"You didn't? Then why did your father buy all those brooms?"_

_"A Malfoy never misses a chance to show off his wealth. Besides, I wanted to make the team better- they were hopeless on those old, crummy excuses for broomsticks."_

_"Harry, what are you doing talking to that bloody ferret?" An angry, ready-to-murder Ronald Weasley entered through the door._

Chapter 6  
><strong><br>**"Don't tell me you've 'seen the light' too, Harry," spat Ron darkly, staring harshly at Hermione and Draco. "Am I the only one who remembers what he's done?" He pointed an accusatory finger at the pale blond, who smirked at the red head's obvious fury.

"Weasley, you're two against one," pointed out Draco, shifting uneasily, but losing none of his cool composure as Ron focused his angry gaze on him. "You have to give me a chance at least."

"A chance to what? Murder us in our sleep? I swear, Harry, Hermione, you two have gone bloody mental. There is no way I'm going to put up with Draco-I'm-the-freaking-Slytherin-prince-Malfoy no matter what you two say."

"Ron, really, it's not like we're going to give him back his wand," insisted Hermione, trying to talk Ron into seeing things clearly. The world wasn't clear-cut black and white. "You can't let years of hatred blind you- he's so useful because he's a Malfoy. He knows the workings of the Death Eaters, and the Malfoy vault probably has the sane security as the Lestrange vault."

"Vault?" repeated Draco curiously, drawing a glare from Ron. "Are you talking about Gringotts?"

"There's something in the Lestrange vault that we need. It's very important that we get it," summarized Harry without giving away any potentially dangerous details.

"Did you know a dragon guards the vault? I'm not even joking!" he defended as the trio stared at him skeptically with disbelief. "It's pretty vicious, but there's ways to keep it at bay. And there are a lot of enchantments on those vaults down there."

"Such as...?" started Harry, waiting for Draco to complete the sentence.

"Duplication charms. If anybody without family blood touches an item in the vault it immediately duplicates itself, just the slightest touch will do. It will keep in duplicating itself until the thief is literally drowned in gold. And the metal of the fakes will all burn the skin of those without family blood. So if you guys tried to break into my aunt's vault, you'd be killed just about the moment you touch something." He smirked, directing his gaze at Hermione as he waited for her to come to a realization. He didn't have to wait long.

"Wait, then if Bellatrix is your aunt-"

"That's right, Granger. I can take the thing you want right out of that vault without a hitch. So unless you want to die a very, very painful death, Weasley, you might want to reconsider your decision."

Ron frowned and muttered something that sounded like "Damn ferret" under his breath, flatly saying, "Fine. You can join us. But the moment I think you're going to betray us, I'll kill you."

"I won't let you down, I promise," swore Draco, giving a real smile. "I'll do anything to clear your doubts, anything. Even an Unbreakable Vow."

"An Unbreakable Vow you say?" repeated Ron maliciously. "You know what, that'd work dandy fine with me. That way, you'll die if you betray us."

"Ron!" scolded Hermione, upset with the malice and glee in Ron's voice. Harry shifted side to side nervously- he still kind of agreed with Ron on this one, but didn't want to provoke Hermione and her vicious temper so soon after getting back on her good side. He did not want to be back on her bad list.

"If that's what Weasley wants, I'll do it. Granger, hold my hand. Weasley- you can be the binder." Draco stretched out his arm to Hermione, hopping off the window sill.

Hermione suddenly felt a little bit- what was the word- muddled. She was proud, and giving into this would be like admitting defeat to Ron, that she wanted to give into his idea. But if she didn't, it would show that she didn't trust Draco, who was obviously so willing to do it. She swallowed her pride and placed her hand in Draco's outstretched fingers.

Ron placed the tip of his wand right where their hands connected, holding it steady as Hermione took a deep breath. "Um, Draco, before we start, what's your middle name? I think it's required for an Unbreakable Vow," asked Hermione nervously, her unease visible in her twitching lips and her tapping foot.

"Lucius. I'm named after my father. Seems the bastard couldn't get enough of himself. Of course, I guess it's not that uncommon either, a father having his name brought down through his son's middle name." Draco's eyes glittered with impatience, and Hermione instantly straightened, thinking through the vows in her head. How to erase the doubts from Ron's mind.

"Do you, Draco Lucius Malfoy, promise to fight on our side and remain loyal to our cause?"

"I do," he said, staring Hermione right in the eye, the thin, flickering serpent of flame weaving around their connected hands reflected in his silvery orbs.

"Do you promise to never betray us, even at the pain of death?"

"I do." Ron and Harry watched with surprised eyes as another tendril of fire wrapped itself around their arms.

The last vow she had planned for Draco was different, much stranger than the others. "If you have to kill to save yourself or others, will you do it?"

Draco considered this for a split second. He'd never killed before. But if it came down to his life or the man trying to kill him... "I will."

One last flame sparked around them, and Draco released Hermione's hand, giving a challenging glare at Ron. "Well? That good enough for you?"

Ron stuttered, turning beet purple as he tried to formulate a proper, preferably witty way to reply. The result wasn't exactly what he had hoped for. "Bleghr!"

Draco looked at Ron while trying his hardest to resist from rolling his eyes, but he could not resist from laughing. "You didn't think I could do it, did you, Weasel? Well, here's your proof. And being Slytherin, it's only my nature to keep myself alive. And therefore I am stuck on your side." Draco gave a malicious grin, and if it were possible for Ron to turn even darker with anger and annoyance, he would have.

"Harry, please don't tell me we're taking him with us after Gringotts. I don't think I could survive a night trapped in a tent with him," pleaded Ron desperately, Draco watching with slight amusement. He may have changed, but teasing Ron would always be a fun habit.

"I have a question. Does the Unbreakable Vow give me the right to leave this room?" asked Draco, sounding almost a bit bored.

"I guess, but I thought we could discuss our plans in here. All I need to do is cast a 'muffliato' charm and nobody'll be able to hear us," said Hermione, taking out a piece of paper, a quill, and some ink. As soon as she was settled with their haphazard arrangement on Draco's bed, she cast the charm, satisfied with it's success.

"I'll start off with what we know about Gringotts. In order to get in, you need to present a key. Or just proper identification. I'm pretty sure a wand will do." Hermione held up a second wand, not hers, but one that looked quite familiar to Draco. "This belongs to Bellatrix Lestrange. I figure we could use this to sneak into Gringotts. I have Polyjuice Potion stored in my bag for emergencies like this and I could probably find one of her hairs on my robes.

Draco gave a small cough, interrupting Hermione with a comment of his own. "Sorry for cutting off what I'm sure would've been a brilliant, fool-proof plan, but there's something you didn't realize. Gringotts- the building itself- senses thieves. Have you ever heard of the Thief's Downfall?"

"Of course. It was mentioned in our Potions textbook. It has the ability to wash away all effects of spells, other potions, etc." recited Hermione, sounding like she did during Hogwarts, total know-it-all. "It can wipe away disguises. Wait, are you saying-"

"Gringotts can detect fakes. At least, if one is suspicious, the Thief's Downfall is employed on the intruder, and alarms are set off if it is an intruder. With Polyjuice Potion, you'd probably get killed before you reach the cells. And once you get there, the dragon will kill you," he added cheekily, suppressing a shudder as he remembered the hideous, ferocious beast. "However, you have me. And my father explained Gringotts to me several times, the securities, everything. He funds them you know."

"Just like everything else in this bloody world," muttered Ron, snorting.

"Damn straight," snickered Draco, redirecting his attention to Hermione. "I'm a Malfoy, and because the Malfoy vaults are right next to the Lestrange ones, if you take me with you, you can bypass all the security at least until you get to the vault. The building can sense my blood, and because I'll be in your party, it's like I'm granting you access to my vault. The vaults down there don't have keys- the only thing that can make them open are either a goblin's touch, or someone who carries a sufficient portion of that family's blood in their veins. So distant, distant relatives can't steal from it. That means you, Weasel." Ron made a spluttering, gurgling noise.

"That must be really advanced magic," said Hermione, mumbling her thoughts out loud, not noticing Ron starting to mutter about 'don't want your filthy money' and such. "I wonder how it works..."

"Which families basically owned the Wizarding World back when Gringotts was built?" asked a smiling Draco, trademark smirk turned on high. "The high-class purebloods, the greatest, most grandiose of them being none other than the noble house of Malfoy. Unfortunately for Weasley here, his family doesn't happen to be on the list."

"Oh shut up, ferret," grumbled Ron, though he was actually intently listening to Draco's explanation of some of the hidden workings of Gringotts.

"Anyway, my presence will allow any necessary disguises to work as you might have planned it. At least, that's what father made it sound like. Now tell me what I want to know. Why the hell do you want to get into my aunt's vault? Because frankly, if you want gold, it'd be smarter to pick an easier place to steal from. Not to mention the Malfoy vault must have at least fifty times m-"

"We don't want the gold," interrupted Hermione, who was rolling her eyes and trying not to keep from giggling. There was something just so funny about Draco's lazy, sarcastic, narcissistic drawl that she couldn't resist at least cracking a smile about. She hadn't been this entertained in ages. Just a week ago, the funnest thing to do was to sit in bed and listen to how much people were dying at the hands of Voldemort. "But there is something in that vault that's important. It's a gold goblet."

"Hermione," said Harry in a wary tone, green orbs flickering with unease, tone hinting for her to simply shut up.

"Oh what harm could it do? If he runs to go tell his daddy or You-Know-Who he'll just drop dead- or did you miss Ron's gleeful joy five minutes ago?" Hermione sighed. Harry might have extended his hand in peace, but he still wasn't comfortable with divulging secrets, even if the listener in question had just sworn to quite literally die on the spot if he betrayed them. "Malfoy, have you heard of horcruxes before?"

"Um, sort of. I saw the word in a book I have at my house," he recalled easily. It was hard to forget seeing the struggle he'd went through to open the stupid thing- he'd looked like an idiot trying to wrestle it open. He forgot why he'd bothered. He was probably bored and it'd been the first book he grabbed. "It gave an explanation, like, you can store a fragment of your soul in an object, and that object is a horcrux. The instructions were absolutely nasty. Don't make me repeat them. I'll throw up in the process."

"Don't worry, I know how disgusting they are," assured Hermione, stomach turning as she remembered flipping through one of the gruesome books she had taken from Dumbledore's office. "The reason I mention them is because You-Know-Who made horcruxes."

"Wait, did you just say it in the plural form?" asked Draco, gray eyes widening. "I can hardly imagine someone performing that ghastly ritual once! The Dark Lord must have one hell of a stomach."

"That's not the point here, Malfoy," said Hermione wearily. "The point is that we have to find and destroy these horcruxes so we can kill You-Know-Who!"

"You plan to do this how?" Draco raised his eyebrows skeptically. "Very few things can destroy them, and those things happen to be quite dangerous to obtain or make. And how do you know You-Know-Who didn't throw his horcruxes down into an abyss?"

"Because most people don't throw fragments of their souls down abysses."

"He's not 'most people'! He's white, has red eyes, no nose, and is crazy as hell. You never know with him. He likes his stupid pet snake better than anything else in the world. He's crazy."

"He likes that snake so much because it's a horcrux!" said Hermione, faintly amused and annoyed. "And to answer your previous question, we have basilisk venom. It's on the sword."

"You mean that fancy sword with the rubies? How'd basilisk venom get on that?"

"It's the sword of Godric Gryffindor. Harry stabbed the basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets back in second year, and since the sword's goblin-made, it absorbs anything that makes it more powerful," Hermione explained, watching Draco nod thoughtfully.

"So the basilisk story was true then? Never really did get all the details... Second year was quite frightening to tell you the truth. People dropping petrified all over the place," admitted Draco sheepishly. His dad had told him there was nothing to be worried about, but how was one supposed to know if death was lurking just around the corner.

"You didn't look scared to us," accused Ron. "We thought you the criminal behind the whole thing. Of course, we realized you weren't after we sneaked into the Slytherin common rooms."

"You did what?" Draco looked quite surprised- who knew Gryffindors could spy? "How?"

"Polyjuice potion. They got turned into Crabbe and Goyle," said Hermione, shivering as she also recalled turning half-cat. That had been dreadful.

"Lemme guess, Potter here was Goyle. I always wondered why Goyle was wearing glasses that day..." Draco mused, suddenly freezing. "Wait, Polyjuice potion? Where did you get that? Did you steal from Snape?"

"No, Hermione made it," announced Ron proudly, relieved to be able to add onto the conversation. It seemed to be like Hermione and Draco forgot he and Harry were there. "We stole the ingredients from Snape's office and she made it. You being number one in potions is just because Snape favored you!"

"Funnily enough, I made that potion for extra credit in second year too," sniggered Draco, watching Ron's contempt fade back into a mix of shock and anger. "Snape only gave extra credit to Slytherins."

"How about we get back on topic?" suggested Harry dryly. "Hermione's only got half a foot of notes so far- it's about five feet less than average."

"Right, Draco, have you ever been inside your aunt's vault?" inquired Hermione, clearing her throat self-consciously.

"Once. My mom took me with her when we dropped something off in the vault. I don't know what it was though. Hmmm..." muttered Draco, apparently in deep thought.

"Malfoy, you look like you're scheming to pelt us with dungbombs," commented Harry.

"Maybe I am." Draco waited for Harry's reaction- a hilarious combination of surprise and disgust- before continuing. "Why would I bother wasting my dungbombs on you? Well, actually, you'd be the best target but that's not my point. I was thinking that my mom could open my aunt's vault. Maybe I could do it too."

"What's the risk?" said Hermione, concern darkening her features.

"Oh, let's see, the alarms will be set off, I'll either faint or die on the spot, the dragon will try to kill us all, and all in all we will die." Draco paused, blinking. "Not the best idea in retrospect. But you probably don't want to trust just my blood to get you through. I can trick the building, but perhaps not the goblin. The Imperius Curse is the closest to risk-free option you have."

"That's an Unforgivable!" hissed Hermione, drawing in a sharp intake of breath. "It's illegal!"

"And right now, according to the law, you are fugitives and any action of yours basically constitutes you a death penalty. No one's going to care if you use an Unforgivable, trust me," assured Draco confidently.

"Figures he wouldn't have qualms using an Unforgivable. He's probably used them loads of times." Ron rolled his eyes as he whispered loudly to Harry.

"And I've also had them used on me," retorted Draco, flames starting to spark up in his normally calm gray eyes. "Loads of times. And I'm willing to use them against another living being if it helps bring this war to an end- victory going to this side of course."

"I guess it wouldn't be too bad since we only need them to open a vault... It's not like we're going to order them to commit suicide or anything," said Hermione uncomfortably.

"I'll cast it if you guys think it'll be difficult. Hesitation's not good for Unforgivables. I'll require my wand though," Draco hinted, impatient to have it back. He felt so weak without it, and he never knew if Ron would snap and try to curse him...

"Oh right, wands," mumbled Harry, suddenly remembering his need to talk to Ollivander. "I should also ask Ollivander about what I saw. I'll go alone- you guys should keep planning."

"I'll go with you," offered Ron, eager to leave the room, seeing Draco was in there with him. "It's not like we're contributing much to the conversation anyways... And I can't stand that sod Malfoy much longer..."

The door slammed shut behind them, leaving an awkward silence between the room's now dwindled occupants.

"So, Granger," coughed Draco, trying his best to avoid her gaze. "Any brilliant plans?"

*Yes... They're trapped alone in a room again, and it's Ron's fault! :3 Mwahahahahahahahah! 'cept this time they're going to plan a break-in to Gringotts. Review Replies!

**IRuleUK: I thought so too... I made the transition a bit too quickly... If I ever go back to fix this story (when I get older probably) I'll take care of that issue. For now... I'm going to let it slide. I'm actually thirteen, a year younger than most of the kids in my grade. :3 But most kids _are_ fourteen. Thanks too! :D**

**Somnus Verus: More and soon! ;D Thanks for the review!**

**Just Above Your Average Malfoy: Thought so. Nobody else ever mentions Greek Yogurt. XD But I didn't want to mess it up just in case. ~Yay! Super-mega-foxy-awesome-hot! :)**

**mandy1744: That's my plan! ;D I hope this is soon enough!**

**wolvesdrinktea: Real life always comes first, that's what I say. *nods* It's the reason I prewrote a bunch of 'helper' chapters so if I couldn't write enough one week, I had one in store. Which was what this week was. :P Ugh.. So much SS homework... Harry is always in the middle of every fight. :3 He always chooses Ron's side though... Unless the fight is between him and Ron. **

**forbiddenluv: He and Draco have this natural hatred between them. Rodent rivalry. XD**

**Amber Neagaze: Come on now, Ron has only a few brain cells left as he is! He doesn't need to lose more now! XD JK, but, Ron really isn't the sharpest knife in the drawer... New and improved Draco is awesome! **

Yay! Seven reviews for the last chapter! :D Perhaps... I could have more this chapter? Please? :3 *puppy eyes* Either way though, see you next week! XD ~Aeyra*


	7. Chapter 7

*How sad is it that I almost forgot to upload this thing today? :| Of course, I had my birthday party, and I was playing around with my gift. (I got manga pens! :D) This chapter's short, I think my inspiration was low that day, but I hope you'll enjoy it just the same. :D Have fun!*

Chapter 7

I'm alone in a room with Draco Malfoy for the second time in a day. I never thought I'd get to use that sentence, thought Hermione wryly, unconsciously staring at the blond boy. Never thought it'd actually be reasonably pleasant either...

Draco was bent over the sheet of parchment, drawing a somewhat detailed sketch of the placement of the Lestrange vault in the deeper levels of Gringotts, marking different obstacles, like the dragon, and making notes on what kind of enchantments were at work. As a Malfoy and not a Lestrange, there were certain things even he couldn't bypass, but he was reasonably certain that with his planning and a couple of well-placed Confundus charms, everything would go smoothly.

He remembered how when he was little, his mom had once taken him to the Lestrange vault on an errand, and he'd stared around unimpressed by the pitiful (by Malfoy standards of course) piles of gold and treasure surrounding him. Out of boredom, he'd picked up a couple of coins and started tossing them through the air, and his mother had been quick to reprimand him, fear in her eyes. That had quickly vanished, but that memory confirmed what he'd been thinking.

He had been able to touch that gold, and if he could touch it, he could probably open the vault as well. It was a good private self-assurance that he wouldn't kill himself trying.

He looked over his shoulder to see Hermione peering over it, taking a good look at his miniature blueprint of Gringotts. Her chin was mere inches away from his shoulder, and curiosity straying, he wondered what it would feel like for her to rest her head against him, that mane of soft, bushy hair like a cushion, her warmth, her- Draco blinked, trying to comprehend his thoughts. _That was strange to say the least,_ he said privately to himself. _Hmm… I guess it's just teenage hormones… _

"See anything interesting?" he asked nonchalantly, looking right into her toffee-colored eyes. "Anything worth noting?"

"Not much..." she murmured, her mouth so close to his right ear that he could hear her whisper. "Malfoy, I was wondering something."

"Yes, what?"

"Well, since I'm going to disguise as Bellatrix to get in, can you give me the gist of her behavior? I want to try and be as convincing as possible." Hermione gave him a hopeful smile, one that suddenly caused his heart to flutter like a bird's flapping wings, fast and furious.

_Really weird..._ _Nobody's ever made that happen to me before…_"Well, my aunt is first of all, rude, threatening, evil, and basically your opposite. She is very, very intimidating, even when in a good mood. Your best bet is to simply glare at everyone who passes you, occasionally make dirty comments about them, and if anyone approaches you, you treat them like dirt. I'm guessing you have no experience in that area." He smirked- this was one lesson he could definitely teach her. Oh the joy of being a bully, and Slytherin Prince on top of that. You learned a thing or two about being a total dirtbag.

"Not really," she admitted, sounding somewhat shy. "How would I go around being rude? I mean, I believe in equality! And I'm not that great of an actor."

"But I can be a great actor. If I'm not frightened to death of course," he conceded. "An example would be that wound from the hippogriff. I did get hurt, but I made it seem so much worse for dramatic effect. I'll teach you."

"Okay," she replied dubiously, wondering how he'd go about it. "So what are we going to do?"

"My aunt has a couple of choice phrases she absolutely adores using. 'Filthy plebeians', 'filthy commoners', and 'filthy lowlifes' are some of her favorites."

"Not much variety in the way of adjectives, eh?" joked Hermione, having a laugh at the expense of Bellatrix's not-so-creative vocabulary.

"Not really. What I want you to do is practice saying them to me. Be insulting, and at least sound like you mean it. I can be annoying if that helps." He gave a wide grin, and Hermione had to stifle giggles.

"I didn't notice you stopped being annoying," she commented cheekily, giving him a friendly shove. "Let's see... Filthy plebeian!"

"You sound too happy," critized Draco, looking thoughtful. "Less cheerfulness, more 'I-hate-the-world' vibe."

"You filthy plebeian!" she yelled, glad she had charmed the doors earlier. She felt extremely embarrassed, and it was surprisingly difficult to resist the urge to laugh. One person having to listen to her act was quite enough.

Draco laughed, not the nasty chuckling Hermione had been subjected to for six years, but a happy, warm kind of laugh, one that made her bubble up with joy and laugh right along with him. "This is so ridiculous, Malfoy!" she giggled, cheeks flushed with color. "I'm not going to have to walk down the street screaming stuff like that!"

"Well, it would be entertaining," he snickered. Noticing her annoyed glare, he continued, "But it would help if you used them with right timing. And you have to act socially dysfunctional."

"You definitely have so much respect for your aunt," said Hermione sarcastically, trying to match 'socially dysfunctional' and 'Bellatrix Lestrange' in her head. Somehow, it didn't seem strong enough.

"What can I say? She creeps the hell out of me. After all, she loves using the Cru-" Draco stopped himself. He'd just been about to mention curses. Specifically the curse.

Observing Draco cringe, Hermione froze, suddenly realizing that in the playful banter of practicing insults and ingenious planning, she'd forgotten about the events of just two nights ago. The horror, the pain, that struggle for air while it felt like you were being ripped apart inch by inch from the inside out.

Draco waited for until she had stopped shuddering, understanding that it'd be unwise to show pity, to talk again, giving her a gentle pat on the shoulder instead.

"I'm sorry," he murmured moments later. "That was careless of me."

"It's okay, you didn't mean to," she replied, clearing her mind of the memory. "But I think I know enough about Bellatrix."

"Yeah, you'll do fine. How are the rest of us going to get in? Is Potter's invisibility cloak big enough?"

"You know he has an invisibility cloak?" Hermione repeated, sounding surprised. "But- how?"

"After I saw his head floating in Hogsmeade, I knew something was up, because I'm not mad." Hermione rolled her eyes. "So I came up with different theories to explain it, and then I thought he might have an invisibility cloak. I didn't prove that theory until sixth year on the train though. But the point is, I figured it out."

"That's reasonably impressive," commented Hermione. "Most people wouldn't think of invisibility cloaks- they're extremely rare. And they're so expensive, 99.9% of the Wizarding population could never afford it. Though being in that top .1% probably means your family owns one, right?"

"It's my father's. He doesn't use it much though, too hard to fire spells under it." Draco gave a shrug, stretching on the bed. "So how are Potter, Weasel, and I going to hide?"

Hermione decided it would be pointless to reprimand Draco- it would only waste her breath. "I'll disguise one of you, and two of you'll go under the cloak. I think you and Harry should be under it, for safety purposes."

"Good- who knows if a spell will go wrong and leave my face disfigured for the rest of eternity?" joked Draco, sighing dramatically. "It would be absolutely tragic!"

"Yup, because your face is obviously more important than saving the world," said Hermione sarcastically, grateful that Draco was so good at changing the subject. "How would we ever survive if your dashing good looks were ruined for eternity?"

"Finally someone who understands!" he laughed, gray eyes glowing with amusement. "All the girls at Hogwarts would die of depression," he paused, getting straight back to business, "I think this leaves just one thing in left for our planning."

"What?" asked Hermione, leaning even harder over his shoulder, expressive caramel eyes filled with curiosity. "Didn't we go through security measures, curses, hexes, how to disarm everything, pass through the dragon safely, how to escape if it all goes wrong, what to do if-"

"You're rambling," he sighed, sounding quite bemused, peering at her with the intent and curious gaze of a cat. "You forgot to say when we're planning to break in."

"Right." Hermione pondered the question for a while. "Malfoy, does your aunt have specific days for going to Diagon Alley? We wouldn't want to bump into her."

"She does things on whims, Granger. But judging from what happened the last time You-Know-Who's Death Eaters failed to capture you, she'll be stuck in Malfoy Manor for the next week at the very least."

"Won't it look suspicious if I'm out when she's supposed to be at Malfoy Manor?" asked Hermione dubiously, already seeing the possibility of all their planning becoming useless to grow higher.

"The Dark Lord's not going to televise that he's just failed to capture Potter and cronies, how embarrassing would that be? Wizarding World! I have once again failed to capture three teenagers, and now I've grounded my Death Eaters for a week," mimed Draco, talking in a mocking, high-pitched voice. "He'll keep it nice and secret, and you can always invent some sort of reason. You could say you seduced him," suggested Draco, an evil smirk on his face.

"Ew, Malfoy, that's disgusting!" cried Hermione, laughing. "And I could never say that with a straight face!"

"No? Shame," he said, gray eyes warm with his good humor. "It would actually be quite a reasonable explanation. She's quite obsessed with You-Know-Who." _So obsessed that she pines over him day after day..._ thought Draco privately. _Extremely creepy really..._ _The puppy dog look so doesn't work for deranged females… or males for that matter. _

"Maybe we should go tomorrow," decided Hermione, invisible light bulb over her head. "I already have everything prepared, and the earlier we go the better, right?"

"Correct," confirmed Draco, stretching. "As long as I get a decent stretch tonight I'll be fine. But I was wondering, do I get my wand back for the mission?"

"I guess you'll have to," replied Hermione reluctantly. The time Draco had hexes her teeth to grow bigger with his magic was suddenly fresh in her mind. If he tried a single thing… "You sure the spells you listed are correct?"

"Positive." He leaned back onto her, soft silvery hair on her shoulder, feeling delicate as a kitten's fur, his head was warm, and for a second, the both felt totally at ease. That was until they realized how awkward it was of course.

Hermione and Draco seemed to scoot away at the same time, faces flushed with the identical shade of rouge, and both avoiding the stare of the other. And both wondered the same question. _Why does this feel so right?_

*Above lies the cheesiest ending I've ever written. *smacks head* I just remembered I need a beta-reader. If anyone wants to volunteer or suggest someone to me, please do so.

**IRuleUK: I'm turning fourteen tomorrow! And then you shall be right about ninth grade. ;) ROFL to impatience being a virtue. I know what you mean about Ron. He makes me want to tear my hair out sometimes...**

**Just Your Above Average Malfoy: Yup! Ron, we blame you! (but good job to getting Draco and Hermione together.) Thanks for the review!**

**mandy1744: Thanks! I'm turning fourteen tomorrow. :3 So I won't be thirteen much longer. XD I like being thirteen...**

**wolvesdrinktea: Now THAT's just plain old crazy. o.O WTH? Don't we all miss summer? XD Ron is pigheaded. It brings some comic relief from time to time. (but it mainly irritates me. XD) Everything's great with me!**

Birthday tomorrow! Yay! *is pumped* I had my party today, and me and my friends all got makeovers. One of my friends started a photo shoot, and got _really_ into it... XD So much fun... See you next week! (and I'll be one year older. ;) )


	8. Chapter 8

*I got a beta-reader! Thanks Canchurrita for looking over this chapter! :D I have a short story due in English, so I didn't get so much time to write, but that didn't affect this. *sigh* Turns out I wrote it too long and now I have to start over... Enough about me! Here's the chapter! Have fun reading! XD*

Chapter 8

"Move over, Potter, you're taking up what little space there is!" hissed Draco, stumbling along with Harry as they trailed Hermione, transformed into Bellatrix, and Ron, disguised as a foreigner.

"Shut up, Malfoy! I'm taking up less than half of it You're the one taking all of it up!" whispered Harry back, thankful that Diagon Alley wasn't too crowded today. If he'd had to weave through the packed crowd under his cloak with Draco as well... That would be a total pain in the ass. Well, more of a total pain in the ass than this.

Hermione flashed them both a warning glare, signaling them to be quiet, and with Bellatrix's heavy-lidded eyes and dark features, it was as frightening as the real thing. Draco cowered for a second, before remembering Harry could see him. He was not letting Potter watch him cringe at the sight of his  
>own aunt, or Hermione.<p>

It had been a rushed morning- Hermione forcing them out the door before the first light of dawn as to not alert any of the others, leaving a note to explain what they were going to do, leftovers from yesterday's lunch and dinner packed in her seemingly bottomless bag. With a quick flick of her wand, Ron had been rendered unrecognizable, the only traits possibly defining him as a Weasley his red hair, and faint marks of freckles on his cheeks. Right before they apparated to Diagon Alley, she had drained the Polyjuice potion, choking down every last drop to ensure maximum duration. She hoped it would be enough.

_Why must those two be so noisy? _she wondered, sighing, a kick from invisible Draco reminding her to keep up a fierce, spiteful demeanor. _Right... no thoughtful sighs,_ she thought, trudging along, giving hateful, frightening stares left and right. _I feel like someone'll catch me for doing this..._

A few people did end up walking up to 'Madame Lestrange', wishing her a good day and wondering what she was doing in Diagon Alley. Hermione was pretty sure they were all low-ranked Death Eaters, Dark Arts shop owners at the least, so felt there was no harm in just biding them a nice 'none of your business' and ignoring them. It was better than being forced to chat- what would she say? And who knew how long the Polyjuice would last? It'd be a little less than catastrophic if she turned back into Hermione Granger in the middle of the street.

Soon, Gringotts loomed overhead, the slightly lopsided building intimidating them as they hesitated in its shadow. If something went wrong today, it would be the end of everything. If everything went right, they'd be a huge step closer to defeating Voldemort.

Hermione slid through the front doors, immediately catching the eyes of working goblins. Some glared at the faux Bellatrix, some showed only mild interest, and others turned back to their work.

Ron was next to her, staring around nervously at the goblins, creatures that made him shiver a bit. His dark mustache seemed to tickle his cheeks, and he twitched whenever it brushed his skin. He started to wish he didn't ask for the stupid hairy thing...

The false Bellatrix stormed right up to the front of the bank after a moment's hesitation, commanding the head goblin in a haughty voice, "I would like to be taken to my vault immediately." She stressed the last word, trying to scare the goblin into submission if possible. It didn't even flinch.

"Identification please," it ordered, sticking out its long, wrinkled fingers, claw-like nails outstretched threateningly. "Your wand will do."

Hermione was so, so thankful Harry had managed to take Bellatrix's wand from Malfoy Manor. It just forestalled a catastrophe. She pulled out the slender black stick, handing it to the goblin with an air of disdain. She felt as if she could almost hear Draco whispering to her- he wasn't talking in case someone heard him, but his 'training' had worked all the same. Hermione had persuaded him to teach her more of Bellatrix's habits after dinner, and she felt slightly confident as the goblin gave the wand back.

"Very well," said the goblin, eyes narrowed with slight suspicion, as if he still didn't trust this 'Bellatrix Lestrange'. "Follow me."

They were lead into the musty, damp cavern under the beautiful marble of the bank, hardly any light illuminating them. Only the small dim oil lamp allowed them to see through the darkness. Hermione shivered as she stepped into the cart- what if Draco was wrong and they ended up losing their lives today? What if nothing valuable was in the vault after all? What if Harry's dream was just another trap set by Voldemort?

She tried to keep the doubts from swallowing her whole, the queasy swirling in her stomach becoming almost unbearable. She knew how high the risks were, if only one bit of info they had received was wrong... She closed her eyes. Only to have a jolt of pain from her foot make her open them right back up.

Somehow, she instinctively knew it was Draco who stepped on her foot, could hear him screaming silently, "Stop being stupid, Granger! There's no way I'm wrong!" with those lovely, burning gray eyes of his. Lovely. She blinked dumbly. Was that a word usually associated with Draco Malfoy?

She heard the creaking of the wheels as the cart dived forward, making her think of the roller coasters she loved as a kid. The exhilarating, exciting feel of dropping from the peak of the ride to the bottom, racing through the track with the speed of a rocket. But this only scared her. Nerves were getting to her. She was always the worrywart, it was normal, but the knot of dread was simply not...

As the rush caused air to flow like wind against their ears, she felt something warm cup her right ear, and Draco's cool drawl saying, "Calm down, Granger. All of this idiotic worrying is going to get us nowhere. Just carry out the plan." Then the warmth was gone, and the voice could have been merely a facet of her imagination. The strange, momentary sense of security and safety had also vanished like mist. But Draco, or imaginary Draco, was right. She couldn't worry now. They had a job to do.

The cart veered sharply to the left, causing the invisible Draco and Harry to careen into her, and therefore she crashed into Ron, who was now squished against the side of the cart. The goblin turned back, saying, "Sorry, that turn is always-" His gaze was suddenly directed to where Harry was. The invisibility cloak had been jerked off of him.

The goblin hastily opened a compartment, and was about to smack a button when Draco pulled off the rest of the cloak and yelled, "Imperio!" He was just in time to stop the goblin from alerting the entire bank.

"I don't think there's much use left for the cloak, Potter," he said tersely, completely focused on the goblin. "The thing's under my control, and we're pretty far from any other cart."

Harry nodded dumbly, realizing Draco had just performed an Unforgivable. "But- why Imperio?" he asked. "Wouldn't Stupefying him have worked too?"

"The goblin needs to steer, Potter. The route to the Lestrange vault is complicated. If we tried, we'd end up in the depths of Gringotts for eternity," explained Draco, silently commanding the goblin to just 'steer on'. The curse was reasonably easy for him, seeing he had prior experience and the goblin wasn't resisting. However, he sincerely wished he didn't have that wretched experience tainting his hands- it was another dark thing that everybody would mock him for. Another reason people would never trust him. Luckily, Hermione had had it in her heart to give him another chance.

So here he was, using the curse not for evil, but to bring it down, and he smiled. One year ago, he wouldn't have taken the initiative to defect- but now, mind clear of all that chaos and fear; he knew it had been the right choice.

"How far away are these vaults?" asked Ron worriedly five minutes later, the cart still traveling through the maze of tracks. "Because I can't even make out any other carts."

"Just suck it up and wait," answered Draco apathetically, settled comfortably in the seat, left arm brushing Hermione's. "It shouldn't take long though. They're only a mile and a half down."

"That deep?" groaned Ron, transfigured face drawn in trepidation. "Why the hell do you need them that deep?"

"Security measures, Ron," said Hermione, remembering what Draco had told her during their planning sessions. "This way, thievery is discouraged."

"Doesn't seem to be working, now does it?" said Harry wryly, giving a faint grin.

"Well, as I said before, if you didn't have me with you, a bunch more security measures would have been activated. Thief's Downfall, special hexes, jinxes, etcetera. Feel lucky," retorted Draco pompously, carefully steadying himself as the cart dipped again, leading them to a small opening in the rock wall."We're here."

They stepped out cautiously, the Imperiused goblin going forward with the oil lamp dangling from his grip. They heard a roar nearby, a clanking of metal chains, and a sharp orange light highlighted the edges of the dark stone. Draco most definitely hadn't been kidding.

"Malfoy, how do we get past that thing?" asked Hermione urgently, tugging at his arm. "Will it just stop when you walk in?"

"No, we use this thing that makes noise, and the dragon knows it'll be hurt if it's attacked. I think it's been blinded," Draco paused, taking the lamp from the goblin as he searched the stone crevices. "Now where is it?"

He frowned in his search, his expression bordering on extreme anxiety. Where could it have gone? Without it, how the hell were they supposed to get past that stupid-

"Is it this?" Hermione's voice was close to him, and he turned around to see her picking up a small metal object from the floor. It looked like a tambourine, but Draco knew from experience that the sounds were much less pleasant.

"Yeah, thanks Granger," he said, grabbing the item, his cool skin lightly brushing her warm fingers. It made him feel tingly. _Not now Draco..._ he told himself, confused at the word 'tingly.' _Dragon first, tingly stuff later..._"It might help if you cover your ears. It starts off loud, but it gets better quickly," he advised, watching the trio follow his instructions.

With a deep breath, he walked into the spacious cavern where the dragon was held, stomach twisting in fear as it faced him with blond, milky eyes, its scaled haunches raised in aggravation as it opened its mouth. Hastily, Draco shook the object in his hands as hard as he could, feeling a strange sense of power surge through him at the sight of the mighty beast recoiling at the mere sound of the iron clanking noisily against itself.

Draco took bold steps forward, at one point just mere yards from the dragon's pale, angular snout, Ron, Harry, Hermione following suit, goblin trailing behind them still. Pausing as he reached the vault, Draco hesitantly tried to figure out if it really was safe to try and get through. It'd worked before, but perhaps new security measures were in place. And besides, wasn't the goblin bloody Imperiused already?

He commanded the creature to unlock the door, the goblin drawing its long, repulsive finger down the center, the sound of steel unbolting and clicking apart was echoing through the cave, causing the dragon to give a guttural moan. What was inside was a mountain, no, a kingdom, no, a world full of gold, nearly stunning all eyes but Draco, who smirked as he restrained from bragging that the Lestrange vault contained a mere fraction of that in the Malfoy vault. Well, he could only keep his snarky comment back for a few moments.

"Enjoying the sight, Weasel?" he asked mischievously, looking back at the redhead with a sly grin, putting his arm up to warn them from stepping inside. "If you want some nice fat galleons, perhaps we could stop by my vault. It has- oh, I don't know- at least ten times more gold than this paltry safe."

They all rolled their eyes at the smugly sauntering Draco, who was trying to find the golden chalice in what quite literally was a sea of gold and jewels. "Shit," he muttered. "The thing could be fucking buried anywhere, and now I have to claw through all of this stupid stuff to try and dig it out. How wonderful."

"Since it's important, it should be in a more noticeable place," suggested Hermione, pointing to a shelf stacked with coins and valuable items. "I think it's that thing right there."

"Thanks Granger." His fingers closed on the handle of the cup, and his smile was triumphant as he turned around, the grin instantly turning into a grimace of horror. The goblin lay fallen at the cavern entrance. The trio had their wands out, pointed at adversaries of whom Draco recognized without a doubt. Bellatrix. And his father, Lucius Malfoy.

*Review Replies! :3 :

**melzdog123: Thanks! DraMione hints in this chapter. :3 I like my DraMione nice and slow. It's more realistic that way in my opinion.**

**forbiddenluv: LOLZ, I added that part as an afterthought. It sounded like something Draco would say. Thanks for the birthday wish!**

**Maia: Fellow Slytherin! *high fives* I hope I get into Slytherin on Pottermore... I guess Ravenclaw wouldn't be too bad, but I wanna be in Slytherin! Twelve is good. I liked being twelve. I turned twelve in... ... ... 7th grade. *thinks again* Actually, 7th grade was terrible for me... But Red Vines make everything better! APVM FTW!**

**wolvesdrinktea: *gives tiramisu* DraMione senses are tingling! XD I loved that. Here's the chapter!**

**bookivore: I guess it is... I'll replace it with 'announce' then. Thanks for pointing it out. :3 **

Thanks for reading! I hope you'll be here for the next chapter. See ya then, same day next week!*


	9. Chapter 9

*Chapter 9 is here! :D Current news: I have rediscovered Quizlet! :3 If you need to study, I guarantee it'll be a great resource! Okay, now onto the story! Onwards!*

Chapter 9

Lucius Malfoy looked just like his son, except older, a king instead of a prince. His long, silvery blond hair draped down to his shoulders like a shimmering sheet of soft, reflective fabric, pristine and perfect, save the graying roots near his scalp.

He clutched a black wand in his black leather gloved hand, his usual bejeweled serpent staff left behind at home. His gray eyes were flat and dull, lifeless, except for the fact that they seemed to be radiating a fierce chill that froze Draco where he stood. That made him pause, ready to expect pain just like the dragon could expect pain at the sound of the jangling metal. It was simply how he was raised- to fear his father.

Bellatrix seemed the opposite of Lucius, emanating a fiery feeling instead of an icy one, her eyes manic and wild compared to Lucius's collected steel, her hair a mangled mess as it rolled down her back in clumps. She smirked at her counterpart, who was staring at Bellatrix with a look of fear, guessing it was the muggleborn witch, Hermione, seeing that the Undesirable Harry Potter was with her. And that made the foreign-looking red head the blood traitor, Ronald Weasley.

But they didn't see Draco, he was sure of it. And besides, years of Slytherin instincts kicked in and commanded him to hide his sorry arse in the heaping piles of gold so he wouldn't get killed before they even got a chance. However, the new, stupid, soft (dare he say it- Gryffindor-like) part of him forced the evil serpent inside to make a compromise and therefore Draco's wispy blond head was above the treasure, shining silver eyes keenly watching them all, his body quivering in fear.

He gnawed at his lips, the rusty tang of blood on his tongue, his mouth suddenly dry as he stared at his father and aunt. How had they known about their intrusion? _As the owners to this vault were locked away somewhere else, so they probably set up an alarming charm..._ Draco realized, mentally slapping himself for being so darn stupid. _We've walked right into a trap. I should have realized that this would happen._

The trio already had their wands drawn, and were white-faced as their opponents twirled their own wands about lazily, putting on arrogant sneers as they started talking. They had their prey right where they wanted them- cornered, with no escape.

"Pity you left the other night," purred Lucius, his mere voice like a majestic feline's soft growl mixed with sweet honey, making Draco's first desire burrowing a hole and simply living there until his father left and he could come put in safety. "You missed the-" Lucius paused as he tried to find the perfect word, settling for, "after-party you could call it."

"Well, we were on a tight schedule. You know, saving the world from your lot," spat Hermione, running through the list of curses she wanted to use on the pair, some legal, some crossing the line by quite a stretch. It was a long list, but she decided it was always best to start with the basics, after all, they were usually quite effective. "Stupefy!"

Lucius quickly deflected her spell with a translucent blue barrier that made Hermione's crimson beam dissipate to a shimmering mist in a split second. "You'll have to try harder, Mudblood. You won't beat us this time. And please, you don't deserve to transform yourself into a pureblood." He flicked his wand casually, and Hermione and Ron started transforming back, Hermione's defensive reflex a second too slow. _At least it wasn't a curse..._she thought, slightly relieved despite the pain clawing at her body, changing her back into her smaller self.

She took a deep breath as she trained her eyes on Lucius, determined to not show any signs of pain. She watched with strange fascination as the lock of coarse black hair over her eyes melded into a soft brown, intertwined with thin strands of gold. _Hmm… Guess my hair isn't the worst out there…_she thought, musing about how strange that she was focused on hair when she was staring death in the face.

"Says who? I'd say it's the opposite really- who wants to look like a psychopath everywhere they go? Quite a downgrade if you ask me," commented Hermione with an air of disdain, raising her eyebrows almost cockily, firing off a fast round of jinxes that disappeared as they hit the shield. However, one went through, straight and true as an arrow as it pierced the blue film, flinging Lucius through the air. A dull thud sounded a moment later, reverberating as clatter of his wand echoed throughout the cave.

Harry and Ron joined Hermione as they fought Bellatrix, who battled all three of them as if they were nothing more than pesky insects to be crushed by a step of her boot or a press of her thumb. She easily deflected or dodged their futile attacks, her own curses only narrowly missing the trio. Her smile was wide, crazy, dangerous, and hungry, not unlike a starved wolf's. Unpredictable and determined to do all in her power to win. And she held the power.

Flashes of light reflected off the stone, shouts echoing through the cavern. Spells ricocheted off walls, sailing above heads and blasting off chunks of rock where they impacted. Rubble rained down on the four battlers, covering each of them in a layer of dust. Hermione coughed, struggling to keep the debris out of her eyes.

"Is that all you three got?" Bellatrix challenged maliciously, eyes glittering with evil mischief. She too gave a cough from the grime that she breathed in, but it only served to make her voice even more vicious, more dangerous. "I must say, you're even easier than Sirius Black- he was terrible. No wonder he got himself killed."

Her words had obviously struck a nerve with Harry, and it was easy to see that he was struggling to rein in his fury. She had obviously said it to make him angry and do something stupid- and it was working. Any comment about Sirius was always enough to fill him with a sickly misery, but taunting Sirius made him furious. Especially when the comment was right out of the mouth of Bellatrix Lestrange.

"Shut up!" he shouted, waving his wand with unabated fury, green eyes filled with fire.

"Crucio!" Bellatrix neatly sidestepped it, giggling as she did so, like a little girl.

"Oh dear, looks like wee little Potter needs some more practice!" she cackled, eyes widening with glee as Lucius got back on his feet, though he was teetering a little bit. "Lucius! Call him! Call the Dark Lord!"

Draco watched hopelessly as the trio attempted to stop Lucius, but to no avail. None of them could touch him through the shield. The second before Lucius's fingers could stroke the black burnt skin on his left arm, Draco felt himself unconsciously rising, firing a curse he knew his father wouldn't be able to retaliate to on time. Unforgivable or not, it worked. "Crucio!"

Lucius writhed on the ground with sudden agony, screaming in pain, having dropped like a stone when the red bolt of light struck him square in the chest. Hermione took advantage of this moment of weakness, not wasting any time as she Stunned him, satisfied that he could not move.

Bellatrix's manic eyes searched out for the caster of the spell that had struck Lucius, snarling with rage as Draco stepped quietly out of the gold, lithe and graceful as a cat, wand held up high, no fear on his face, no emotion in his silvery orbs. He looked regal, royal, and calm. But he quavered inside at that hatred, the burning inferno in his aunt's eyes, knowing the danger they warned of.

"Draco," she hissed furiously, flexing her left hand fingers like a feline flexes its claws. "You filthy little traitor." The words were spat with venom, venom that stung, venom that made Draco want to fly away and never return. But he couldn't flee just yet.

"I'd rather be a traitor than a Death Eater," he shot back, immensely glad that his voice revealed none of his terror. He was also proud that he had the courage to say that, not only out loud, but to the lieutenant of the Death Eaters herself.

"You're a fool!" she shouted, her anger resounding through the spacious cavern, causing the sleepy dragon in the corner to twitch, flicking its large, pointed ears at the sound. "You were never strong enough to serve the Dark Lord! I always knew you were too weak Draco. Cissy never believed me, but I knew from the start you were useless. You never could stomach anything. So pitiful. But I'll end it for you." Draco was on the balls of his feet, body preparing for what inevitably came next. "Avada Kedavra!"

Death literally missed him by a fraction of an inch as he stepped to the side, knowing if he had dived instead and landed wrong, he'd be an easy target. The emerald light shone brightly on his silver hair, nearly burning the fragile ends as it whizzed by like a fireball. He took a second to catch his breath and wipe his terror off his face, retaliating with a screamed hex that released some of his pent-up adrenaline.

He tried to find a better position in the vault, scattered jewelry coating the majority of the ground, cursing himself for getting stuck in such a disadvantageous spot. If he took one wrong step, he could trip, and if he tripped, well- Bellatrix's aim was just a notch below legendary. The only piece of luck was that the trio was fighting too.

_But the others will arrive soon... Even without the Dark Mark as an alert system, father and Bellatrix will have informed the Dark Lord at least. If they don't get back soon, we'll be stormed by Death Eaters,_ he thought, taking a cautious stride across a meter's space. The cup was still clutched tightly in his left hand, and he fired another spell, helplessly watching as his aunt reflected it. _Can't we just land one spell?__ One is all we need!_

A beam of green light surged towards him again, and he lurched to the side, tripping on some spherical object beneath his foot, terror instantly consuming him as he fell to the ground, knowing he was as easy to kill as a fish in a barrel. Bellatrix's eyes glimmered as she glared at her vulnerable nephew, casting the trio a smirk as she started the words. "Ava-"

_No, Draco! Levicorpus!_thought Hermione desperately, watching as Draco was flung to the ceiling of the vault, the Killing Curse sailing several feet below him. Bellatrix looked surprised- what had happened? The one moment of hesitation bought Hermione the time she needed. "Stupefy!"

The dark-haired woman was instantly frozen in place, like a statue, and fell to the ground. Her obsidian eyes stared at them with loathing. Hermione breathed heavily as she stared at the currently defeated witch. Now they needed to get out.

"Someone let me down!" yelled Draco, knowing Bellatrix was defeated, fear of his aunt evaporating like mist, thrashing around in midair suspended by his ankle. "One of you, please! I might be beautiful, but I don't feel like being locked up in this vault with all these other treasures."

"Conceited bastard," muttered Ron, who was tempted to kick Bellatrix while the witch was helpless. She had after all tortured his best friend... What harm could a kick do?

"Don't," warned Harry, pushing Ron back. "If we ever run into her again, which is very likely, you'll suffer the most painful death if we get- unlucky."

"Fine." Ron glowered at the ground, kicking the stone instead, pretending it was Bellatrix's head.

"Anybody?" asked Draco, now seemingly attempting to swim towards the ground, kicking furiously, arms flailing. "You're the heroes! Rescue a guy in need, will you? Besides, I have your precious cup!"

Hermione quickly thought the countercurse, sending Draco tumbling down towards the stone floor. When he stood up, he sported a bloody nose, his blood splattered like spray paint all over his pale face.

"Draco, are you alright?" asked Hermione frantically, rushing over to his side and instantly babbling an ranting apology.

"We don't have time for this. They're coming. We need to get of here," said Draco with as much urgency as he could muster, time for melodramatics disappearing as he felt the charred skin on his arm flicker with pain. "The Death Eaters. If my father and Bellatrix knew someone was here, chances are more people know too."

"The only way is the cart," said Hermione, looking out hesitantly to the track where the heavy metal should have been. "Where'd it go?"

Draco's face blanched. That had been the escape route, the only one they'd really planned... And it had disappeared. "My father and Bellatrix must have gotten rid of it. Because they could just get out of here by calling more Death Eaters to pick them up or by Shadowwalking."

"Shadowwalking?" repeated Ron, having never heard the term before. "What the hell is that?"

Hermione, the know-it-all as usual, answered Ron's question, voice climbing to an unusually high pitch. "It's a form of movement that allows them to just travel around in a cloud of shadows. It's very Dark Magic though, and advanced. Quite hard to perform." She cast a sideways glance at Draco.

"I can't do it yet," he whispered, staring up towards the pinpricks of light above. "And I wouldn't be able to take anybody with me. We're stuck until we either get dragged out or killed by Death Eaters."

"Or by the dragon!" screamed Harry suddenly, sidestepping as he pushed everyone over, getting them out of range from the river of fire that had just appeared out of nowhere.

"Bloody hell, Malfoy, calm it down again!" yelled Ron, running away from the ferocious beast, everyone else hot on his tail. "Before it kills and barbecues us for its supper!"

"I think I dropped the thing in the gold," said Draco, who was struggling to keep a calm composure. Inside he was panicking, but he wasn't about to show it. "I think the chances of getting out of this alive are becoming slimmer."

As if to prove his point, the shadowy outlines of Shadowwalking Death Eaters started forming above them. Hermione gave a small gulp as she felt her hope drain away. "We're dead."

*Review Replies! ;3 :

**Maia: I haven't actually gotten onto Pottermore yet... But I definitely wanna be a Slytherin. :3 I was reading some house pride things from Pottermore Insider, and Slytherin was the best. (Hufflepuff was funny, Ravenclaw too, Gryffindor sucked.) Thanks for the review.**

**wolvesdrinktea: My beta-reader laughed at that too. :3 All is well.**

**forbiddenluv: Yup. And it just got worse!**

**poisoned blood: Si. XD**

Please leave a review for your homework-laden author. :3 With all said and done, see you all next week! :D*


	10. Chapter 10

*Yay! Six reviews for the last chapter! :DDDDD Guess what? My friend challenged me to do Naniwrimo! And I stupidly agreed to it! DD: And for those of you who don't know what it is... it's a 'National Writing Month' where you have to write 50,000 words in 30 days. And you can't have started before Nov. 1st. (dang it!) So... forgive me if I don't update one week in November or something, but I'll try my hardest! (I'll give up sleep!) And anyways, after that announcement... Onto the story!*

Chapter 10

"Nice optimism you got going there, Granger!" said Draco, taking a deep breath and preparing himself to dodge anything. "You Gryffindors! Stand and fight like you're supposed to! You don't want to go out with your tails between your legs, do you?"

"Ironic coming from a Slytherin that runs first chance he gets," commented Ron, keeping an eye on the dragon, who was currently struggling with its iron bonds, and the other on the Death Eaters, who were staring to gather on the ground.

"Well, do you see a chance here, Weasley?" demanded Draco, firing an unspoken curse at a Death Eater, blasting him into the depthless chasms below. A jet of green light zoomed past, missing them by mere inches. Ron's eyes glued themselves to the gaping hole the curse had left in the rock. "Didn't think so."

"Don't hurt Potter!"

"Kill the others!"

"The Dark Lord is coming!"

Cries rang out loud and clear, complete with cackles and hard-edged chuckles of glee. Hermione felt strangely calm. This time, she had her wand, a weapon, and if she was going down, she was taking a few people with her. She was not being tortured, helpless, weak or defenseless. No, she was strong, powerful, armed, and potentially deadly. Every muscle in her body was tense, like a cat coiling itself to pounce.

She could almost see the malicious sneers behind the silver Death Eater masks, and let adrenaline fill her, preparing herself to give everything she had. She might have only five minutes left to live anyways, why not just put in her all? Nothing to lose… But at least she could get some revenge before her life was snuffed.

The quartet formed a lopsided diamond shape, giving each member room to dodge and cast spells. Draco backed himself up near a wall- stone was more trustworthy for protection than a person in his opinion, seriously, it's not going to jump out of the way or die or anything- which insured he needn't worry about his back.

Later, he became confused on whom, or even which side fired the first curse, but he could remember the flurry of multi-colored lights illuminating the space like bright rainbows. Simple four color rainbows, but rainbows nonetheless.

The only real 'battle' he'd been in before this was The Battle of Hogwarts, a battle of his making. He hadn't even participated in it much really, yet what he had done was remembered above almost everyone- except Snape's actions. But this fight, this brawl, where they were outnumbered, cornered, and had no place to flee; he was surprised at how little fear he felt.

There was a little voice in the back of his mind telling him to run so he couldn't get killed, though he squashed it immediately. Die tomorrow as a coward, die today and go out almost like a hero... It'd happen sooner or later, so what was wrong with just seeing how his cards played out?

He battled viciously, feeling like a lion lashing out his claws and baring his fangs. Time seemed to stretch out forever, counted by each curse that flew by his head, his panting breaths, and his racing heartbeat. He knew it couldn't have been more than a mere three minutes- why did things like this take an eternity, and everything else was barely a flash?

He felt someone slam into the wall next to him, soft cloth brushing his shoulder as a sickening crunch sounded. Her golden-brown curls were matted with blood, her eyes closed, and she seemed to be whispering.

Ron and Harry were racing towards their fallen friend, but Draco yelled, "Cover me! Do you want all of us to die?" Wisely, they followed his advice, deflecting as many spells as they could, and defending the pair shielded behind them.

Draco could hardly hear the ruckus anymore, all of his attention was focused on the girl lying on the cold stone floor. Gently, he slid one hand under her head, feeling the sticky warm crimson on his fingers, the soft strands of caramel in a complete disarray. Slowly, he shifted her closer, carefully placing his wand on her forehead, whispering a simple healing spell he had learned from his mother. Hopefully it would be enough.

"Episkey." Well, the result wasn't perfect, but Hermione stirred, opening her eyes just a slit, letting Draco breathe in a sigh of relief. He'd known she wasn't dead, but still...

"Draco," she muttered, fingers outstretched as she placed them on his shoulder. "What happened?"

"Curse slammed you into the wall. Though it seems you did more damage to it than it did to you," he said, voice tense, knowing Harry and Ron couldn't defend for too much longer, and the Dark Lord was coming soon.

Hermione seemed to ignore his diagnosis of her condition, smiling as an invisible light bulb seemed to pop up above her head. "I have an idea. Draco, can you free the dragon?" asked Hermione suddenly, turning to look at the dragon, which was cowering due to the loud noise filling the cave.

"Okay, maybe you did get hit too hard. Do you want to die?" questioned Draco, feeling the urge to shake some sense into her.

"It's a suicide mission either way," she said, dismissing his protest with the air of apathy, struggling to get up. "We could escape if we can fly on it, and I'd rather get killed by a dragon than those Death Eaters. And perhaps if we get killed freeing it, it could kill a couple of Death Eaters too."

"I still think you're mental. But you're going to do it no matter how much I say no, so I guess I'll have to help." Draco gulped as he eyed the sinewy muscles of the dragon, covered with a thick, protective layer of dragon hide, bracelets of steel worn on its legs. He had pretty good aim, and could probably sever the metal chains wrapped around the dragon with a few well-placed Diffindos. It would have to be quick. The protective spells Harry and Ron were controlling were weakening, and he only had one chance. "We have one shot at it. We'll have to get it right the first time."

She nodded, her coffee brown hair bobbing up and down her shoulders. "I know we will. Go!"

"Diffindo!" they cried out simultaneously, Death Eaters ducking out of the way, the spells striking and breaking several of the chains. A second incantation freed the mighty beast.

It took just a second for the dragon to realize it was no longer bound to the cold stone beneath its razor sharp talon, and another to start a ferocious rampage. It dipped its scaly head down, opening its jaws and letting out a roar, nearly spearing a Death Eater on its sharp front teeth as it bit down. Rearing up on its hind legs, it unleashed a stream of fire, immediately diverting the focus of the battle.

The main concern was no longer 'Capture Potter and Kill Everyone else'- it was 'Run for Your Life and Don't Get Eaten by the Angry Dragon.' Harry looked wildly back at Hermione and Draco, yelling, "Why the hell did you do that?"

The pair ran forwards, keeping their gaze locked on the dragon, currently chasing down a particularly tall Death Eater who was screaming like all of hell was upon him(or in Draco's words, screaming like a little girl). They took shelter behind a pile of fallen stones, sure that the dragon would have plenty of closer targets to take care of before it got to them.

"Are you trying to kill us?" asked Ron, his blue eyes frantic with fear. "What're you two thinking, releasing a bloody dragon?"

"It was her idea," announced Draco, taking a furtive glance back, paranoia getting the best of him. "I just tagged along. Her plan went something along the lines of 'I'd rather be killed by a bloodthirsty dragon than Death Eaters because obviously being burned and crunched with teeth is better than a single curse!'"

"I was also thinking that maybe we could try to fly away on it," admitted Hermione, watching the beast with a morbid, fearful interest. "Except I'm starting to think that's impossible."

"If you asked me, I could've told you that before you did something that stupid," said Harry savagely. "Now how do we get out?"

"Unless we all sprout wings and fly out ourselves, the best bet is the dragon unfortunately," conceded Draco, mentally calculating how to dodge all of the giant reptile's giant clawed appendages without being torn or burned to bits. "And do it quickly, before You-Know-Who decides it's time to make his appearance."

"I cannot believe what we've gotten ourselves into. This is so fucked up," cussed Ron, frustrated, hitting the ground with his fist, the knuckles coming away raw and bloody. "We couldn't have just made a nice simple withdrawal. No, we had to do it the hard way and end up having everything try to kill us as usual!"

"Murphy's Law." Hermione sighed, wishing it could have been as simple as a little withdrawal. "Nothing ever works the way you plan it to."

"Mate, if we ever get out of here, remind me to plan every possible catastrophe into what I do," said Ron to Harry. "Then at very most, the worst that can happen is that I live for three minutes instead of five."

"Right now, we could sneak onto it from behind and levitate each other onto its back," informed Draco, who was already starting to make his way towards the dragon, keeping his back to the wall though. "Wingardium Leviosa. Simple. And then we'll just hope for the best."

"Hope for the worst instead," suggested Ron darkly. "That way Murphy might give you something nice."

"Doubt he'll give me something nice either way, Weasley. I think he hates everyone," snorted Draco, already out of the protection the fallen rocks provided. "Now get your asses out from behind those stones and start getting closer to the stupid dragon!"

"Who's the suicidal one now?" challenged Hermione, sarcasm dripping from her voice as she followed Draco, steps light as if she were afraid the ground was going to explode on her.

"Oh shut up," he grumbled, stopping as the dragon's long, spiked tale loomed mere yards away from them. "Now who wants to be levitated first?"

"I don't trust you, Malfoy," declared Ron flatly, crossing his arms as he stepped back.

"Oh grow up, Ron!" snarled Hermione, stepping in front of Draco, standing straight and tall. "I'll go first then."

"As you wish," said Draco, raising his hands. "Wingardium Leviosa!" She was gently plucked off the ground, and Draco carefully directed her onto the dragon's spiny back. She clung onto the scales, looking terrified, but determined, as the dragon stood up on its hind legs. She clutched the nearest spine tight.

After checking to see she was okay, Draco looked back to Ron and Harry, who looked as if they were beginning to have second thoughts about riding the dragon. Being honest with himself, Draco didn't want to do it either, but it was the only option left. "Since Weasley still seems queasy, you first, Potter."

Harry gave a small curse of protest as he was lifted off his feet and flung towards the dragon, landing with calculated precision next to Hermione. Draco breathed a sigh of relief. He'd been afraid the dragon would shift as he dropped Harry.

"Fine." Ron's submission was short and filled with reluctance, but he didn't fight as he drifted through the air, bellyflopping onto the back if the dragon.

Draco now stood alone on the ground, waiting impatiently for someone to get him onto the dragon. The Death Eater threat had just about disappeared, the majority having fled after they realized their curses couldn't pierce the dragon's thick hide, and a few bloody stragglers had been left behind, struggling to find places to hide. It was as if, for the moment at least, they had been forgotten.

He was suddenly hoisted into the air, held up like he was suddenly weightless, a much more comfortable feeling than being hoisted by the ankle. The gold Hufflepuff goblet was still in his grip, and he was surprised he had not dropped it along the way. Perhaps he had been holding onto it tight to ease the pressure.

When he plopped behind the Trio, by which time had settled semi-comfortably on the creature's back, he looked worriedly at the ceiling. The Death Eaters were probably lingering in the upper levels of Gringotts, awaiting their master.

"Does anybody know how to make this stupid thing fly?" asked Draco irritated, feeling a strong desire to kick the dragon like one kicks a horse.

"Maybe it doesn't want to," suggested Ron, who was fervently tapping at the dragon's scales, as if trying to wake it up or something- except the thing was obviously awake. "Its wings are probably ripped or something."

"Our lives depend on this dragon flying us out," said Draco, taking his time with each and every word. "So unless we manage to get this damn beast to get us out of Gringotts, you can say good-bye to your tragic little lives."

As if by his command, the dragon's wings started beating up and down at a furious pace, nearly knocking the foursome of its back with the combined power of the whirling air and the contraction of its muscle. With one strong leap, it leapt into the air, the reptilian version of a lion in graceful, fluid motion, or perhaps more accurately, an eagle.

"Ah!" Hermione gave a small yell as the dragon swerved sharply, avoiding a dark, shadowy mass that flew at it like an arrow. She felt herself sliding, and desperately grappled for a hold on the creature, but found herself falling, falling into the endless black depths under her.

Hermione! "Granger!" Draco's arm swung down, and she managed to catch the sleeve, holding on for dear life.

"Voldemort!" hissed Harry, watching as the dark form took on a defined shape, a much too recognizable white, slit-nosed face appearing in the shadows. Voldemort's red eyes glistened with malicious joy, excited to have his chance at last.

"Surprised, Potter?" Voldemort's laughter was hard and cruel, echoing through the cavern, multiplying in intensity as the sound bounded off the stone. He glanced at the cup in Draco's hand, keeping pace with the dragon's frantic flying at the same time. "What use does Harry Potter have for a golden drinking cup? Pardon me, I meant did. Avada Kedavra!"

Harry flattened himself against the dragon, wondering how he hadn't turned into a pancake from doing that far more often than he liked.  
>The also far-too-familiar bolt of green light passed overhead, striking a stalagmite meters away and causing it to explode into little chunks and dust, filling Harry's lungs.<p>

"Granger, grab my hand!" urged Draco desperately, feeling like he was the one dangling over the abyss. He wasn't supposed to feel like that if Hermione fell, he'd be left alone. He wasn't supposed to feel palpable pain tearing at the edge of his heart. Perhaps it had only been a few days, but her friendship or acquaintanceship or whatever it was had meant more to him than that the past two years had given him. It had given him hope. And now it was about to be snatched away once more.

Hermione summoned all her strength, left arm swinging towards Draco, their fingertips brushing. But she just couldn't reach far enough for him to pull her back up to safety- or relative safety that was.

Hermione's weight started to pull him over, and with one hand clutching a particularly ridged scale and one where her hand grabbed his sleeve, he was coming close to falling too. Damn it! His mind was working too slowly for him to process anything, and yet too fast for him to understand. The longer he tried to pull up Hermione, the higher the stakes that he himself would die increased. But he couldn't let go.

He saw her caramel eyes fill with tears of terror, noticing that her wand hand was empty. She must have dropped the wand. And Draco's... was in the hand clutching the scale.

He looked back frantically, and saw that both Ron and Harry were dueling with Voldemort, Draco and Hermione's precarious situation going completely unnoticed. He cursed, trying to pull up, scrambling hard, wishing fervently that he had more strength, and hoped that the dragon wouldn't decide to just buck them all off.

The scale was beginning to become slippery with sweat, and Draco's fingers started slipping. Soon he would fall as well. _God help me..._

_*_It's... REVIEW REPLY TIME! (XD):

**forbiddenluv: I wouldn't be optimistic either. :3 Updated!**

**NotoriousNat: I'm glad you 3 it! Who doesn't love Draco? XD **

**Kotomi Blood - Angel of Light: Thanks for the review! I'm guessing you liked it?**

**Maia: Lucky... I can't do any dance moves. Period. I'll tell you when I get in, promise. ;) I hope I get into Slytherin... It BETTER take my stinking opinion into account! I took a sorting hat quiz earlier today, and I got Slytherclaw. - ... Yeah, I know. Writing on! :D**

**wolvesdrinktea: *sweatdrops* Umm... oops? *nervous giggles* I hope you did well on your exams. :) Quizlet rules! ;D What I tried to study two years ago (SAT Vocab) over three months is being compacted into three months! So much more efficient! Let us all worship Quizlet! XD Thanks for the review, just BTW. ;D (though you could probably tell...)**

**MadrigalGryffindor3: Thanks! I worked hard! ;D**

Next week, next chapter! See you then! Please review!*


	11. Chapter 11

*OMG I am so sorry, forgive me! No explanation here because I have no time right now! I'll try to reply to reviews and explain next chapter! This chapter is short, but please enjoy! Sorry!*

Harry battled ferociously, using every painful spell in his roster, every battle trick that was usable while on the back of the dragon. Taking cover behind the dragon's wing, knowing hardly any spells would pierce its skin, that even the thin looking membrane was strong and taut, firing spells right after Ron, utilizing the teamwork factor to his full ability.

"Watch out, Ron!" Ron ducked, his violent red hair singed at the tips by an inky black spell.

"Harry! Careful, you're about to fall off!"

The warnings passed back and forth, like a conversation, with curses, hexes, and jinxes added in often, and spoken with intense ferocity. Dark shapes began to swirl above, Death Eaters, and from their inactivity, Harry guessed Voldemort had commanded them to let him take care of the battle.

After all, Harry thought wryly. It's one all-powerful dark wizard versus two teenagers. What's the worry?

In the back of his mind, he wondered where Hermione and Draco had gone. He'd seen Hermione sliding a bit when Voldemort had arrived, but he that couldn't have been enough to stop her from fighting, could it have? And Draco, why wasn't he helping? He had sworn to battle alongside them.

Perhaps he had dropped dead, Harry mused, uneasiness settling in his stomach. While Ron was likely to rejoice at such thoughts, Harry didn't like death, not at all. It had taken enough away from him.

But he couldn't focus on that, not when one mistake would kill him, not when his only thought should be to destroy the threat at hand, to hold on for the Light, and for the defeat of the Dark. His scar burned at Voldemort's close proximity, making it feel as if his forehead were on fire. He could feel Voldemort's emotions too- ecstasy, certainty, and eagerness. Eagerness to see Harry die, and watch his corpse tumble and rot on the stones miles below.

"What brings you to Gringotts today, Harry Potter? Wanted to rob the Malfoy vault with help from their son?" Voldemort smirked as he watched Draco's hand start sliding off of the dragon, as if it had been oiled. He was as good as dead- and the Mudblood girl too. "Or was it the Lestrange vault?"

"Like I'd tell you! Petrificus Totalus!" Harry yelled, watching as Voldemort easily dodged the spell. A sudden flash of inspiration came to Harry. "Incendus Fiera!"

The tongue of cursed flame that escaped from tip of Harry's wand was like a cone, growing wider as it streamed towards Voldemort, catching on his robes. Harry could feel the heat emanating, pulsing from the air around him, like how a fever felt. It made Voldemort and the rock beyond him ripple like water, and Harry felt satisfaction as the blaze quickly ran up Voldemort's pitch-black robes, too fast for even Aguamenti. The power of fire was almost unbelievable at times. Especially cursed fire.

The biting flames lapped at Voldemort as he sky-rocketed upwards, trying to extinguish the Fiendfyre eating at his skin, his flesh. Voldemort: 0. Harry: 9.

"Just- hold on- a little longer!" grunted Draco, hoping Hermione could hear him through the wind rushing past their ears, the crackling of fire, and the yelling of Harry and Ron. "I'm going to-pull you up!"

Hermione was out of breath, the air having been stolen from her lungs, fear filling them up instead. Her heart pumped what felt like a million times a minute, like a hummingbird's wings, except instead of a delicate pitter-patter of rhythm, it was a loud, thumping beat, which rang through her body, and crowded her ears.

We're all going to die, she thought, mind crazed, eyes staring fixedly at Draco's determined expression. Voldemort's going to kill Harry and Ron, and then Draco and I are going to fall off and die... What a bad way to go.

Her fingers loosened just the tiniest bit, and the silky fabric of Draco's robes slipped out, and they both realized what had happened. As if time were frozen, Hermione flailed in midair as Draco struggled to grab her, and as he did so, his grip on the scale broke, sending them both down, plummeting into darkness.

Voldemort snapped his fingers, but couldn't extinguish the unrelenting blast of fire. The tendrils of flame ate at his pale white skin, licked away at his black, swirling robes, and were mere inches away from setting his new, elder wood wand ablaze.

Harry caught sight of Voldemort's pure fury, and felt the anger burn him, like white-hot metal, through his scar, before the Dark wizard turned into a ball of solid shadow and streaks of red and yellow sparks. Harry gave a sigh of relief- he had driven Voldemort off, at least for the time being.

Ron was at his side, still watching as the spherical inky black ball flew towards the roof of the cavern, causing shrieks of alarm as the Death Eaters panicked over their burning leader. If he hadn't been alert, he wouldn't have heard them. Their screams.

Draco's hoarse yell as he accidentally released his hold on the dragon, Hermione's echoing cries as they spiraled down together. It took Ron a moment to process it, his mind trying to tell him he was hallucinating. But he knew he wasn't.

"Hermione!" He stretched his hand out hopelessly over the dragon's side, as if she would stop falling and float back up. Cursing, he remembered his wand, trying to steady his shaking arm as he said "Winguardium Levio-!"

The dragon took a sharp climb upwards, nearly sending Harry and Ron tumbling off its back as well. By sheer luck alone, the boys managed to cling to the spines, watching in horror as their best friend became a pinprick of mousy brown and black as they burst through the ceiling of Gringotts, making it rain shards of broken class and fragments of rock onto the unprepared Death Eaters.

The sharp crystal cut Harry's shoulders, Ron's arms and head, but they didn't feel a thing. All they could do was stare downwards, towards where Hermione had fallen as the dragon swiftly departed Gringotts. We didn't even get a chance to say good-bye...

Draco knew he was going to die, he could feel it, just as surely as he could feel the wind whipping his hair and robes, as surely as he knew the flailing girl next to him would die as well. Amidst their terror, Draco reached for her hand, pulling her in a tight embrace. If he was dying, he didn't want to die alone.

She said nothing, remaining tense in his hold, eyes squeezed tight, hot tears running down (or was it up?) her face. She wanted to pretend she was still with Harry and Ron, pretend she was going to live. She wanted to pretend there was hope.

A wand could only help you so much, and they were beyond any possible range of such help. So instead of hoping, she let Draco wrap his strong arms around her, his chin resting on the top of her head.

Draco felt Hermione's hair buffet him in the shoulder, unruly locks simply going wild. But what did looks, intelligence, and everything else matter when you were seconds away from falling to your death?

"Good night," he whispered, half to himself, and half to the girl in his arms. If only it were just a night's rest, not eternity...

He closed his eyes, and let himself relax as best as possible, as if he were falling asleep. And it seemed like he had, his head spinning out of focus, body going limp as he fell unconscious.

Neither saw the soft, light blue glow that enveloped them, neither could see themselves disappear, like sand scattered in the wind. Both were completely unaware, like innocent dreamers caught up in their sweetest dreams.


	12. Chapter 12

*Hello, all! :3 We're back for another installment of Escape! Not late this time! :D Though... I have some things to say at the end of the chapter. But take your time reading anyways!*

Chapter 12

Draco wondered vaguely if he were in heaven. Then he reconsidered the question and wondered if he was in hell. However, the cool, damp soil beneath him, and the wet leaves surrounding his body didn't seem to match either description.

Slowly, he opened his gray eyes, the shining specks of gold and silver dulled by exhaustion and confusion. In front of him was a small pond, and the trickling of a stream could be heard, along with sweet birdsong and the croaking of frogs. The soft morning glow gave everything a more gentle feel, and Draco felt at ease. It felt... familiar and safe. Happy.

There was something right next to him giving him warmth, a bundle of comfortable heat in his arms. He didn't have the willpower to look down and see what it was, and he felt much, much too tired to do so.

He wanted to go back to sleep, just a little bit longer. So he let his eyelids droop down, taking him into blissful rest.

Two boys sat in the middle of a murky forest, glumly casting protective spells, wishing for the tent they'd lost when Hermione (and her precious bag) had fallen. There was a small make-shift lean-to next to them, poorly built and unlikely the provide protection from the elements, but they were too sucked into their grief to care.

"I can't believe- I can't believe-" mumbled Ron, too lost in shock to cry. His vision was filled with the sight of a warm-hearted brunette, with curly hair and a cheerful smile. "Hermione. Hermione," he droned, as if repeating her name would bring her back.

"We should have noticed. Helped her," said Harry, painfully, closing his eyes, trying to block the image of Hermione falling, falling, too far down to save, far too late to rescue. "Instead we didn't even know until she fell."

Harry and Ron had climbed off the dragon's back after it landed, carefully sneaking away before it became hungry. They were now glumly preparing a sorry meal of tiny fish they had accioed from a nearby creek and a strange green plant they'd found in the woods.

After some consideration, they'd decided to wait a night before returning to Bill and Fleur's. Just Hermione's name seemed to choke them up, how could they tell everyone that they'd let her die? Harry most definitely was not ready to face anybody but his best friend, who shared the horror with him.

The terrible sensation at the pit of your stomach when you see in slow motion, and know you'll be too late, can't even wish to hope, and yet can't stop yourself from trying. And having that brief feeling of hope torn away all over again. And both boys understood it perfectly.

Ron struggled to light a small fire, his hand shaking as he aimed his wand at a pile of sticks and leaves, missing several times before he finally managed to hit it. All he could think about was how Hermione would tease him if she saw how much trouble he was having with such a simple spell, giving him a light shove and a short 'you should know this, Ron, you've know it for blah, blah, blah' lecture. (short in Hermione standards, usually lasting around fifteen minutes.)

He could almost see a faint outline of her, sitting on a mossy log nearby, staring off into the distance, thinking as usual, planning their next move. Which was the other huge blow. What would they do without their planner? The bossy know-it-all who was their mother-type figure, making sure they all got out okay?

Not this time you didn't, Hermione... Ron thought, the scent of burning fish choking him. But he didn't care. Why did you have to fall? You should have said something earlier, I should have been there for you...

Delicately, Harry removed the charred sticks of speared fish bits and leaf from the fire, handing it to Ron. His green eyes were dull with grief as he lifted it, vapidly saying, "To Hermione, who will always be our best friend, wherever-" He had to choke down tears at this point. "Wherever she may be."

"To Hermione," echoed Ron, tapping his poor excuse for a shiskabob against Harry's, the two exchanging the smallest of smiles, imagining a grinning brunette with her untamable curls sitting between them. "We'll miss you. But we'll finish what we started, for you if for nothing else."

"Amen." Harry and Ron were silent after that- what did you say after your final farewells to a person who couldn't hear you? Who was so close, and now so far...

Hermione yawned as she woke up, wondering what was constraining her arms, curling them across her chest. Whatever it was, it was warm, comfortable, and made her feel protected. Maybe it was an angel. Those were traits she'd always associated with them.

She could remember what had happened vividly, the fear, terror, everything. The frenzied glow in Draco's eyes as he tried to save her, and the horror in the silvery mist as he fell himself. His gentle fingers grabbing her wrist, pulling her tight against him as their tears mingled, a last farewell to the world.

Heaven is a strange place... mused Hermione, half-awake. It feels a bit wet... And the air feels cold. Isn't heaven- well- heaven? Perfect?

Blinking open heavy lids, she immediately closed her eyes once more as the midday soon glared at her with all its intensity, blinding her temporarily. Once her eyes adjusted, she made out trees and a little pool of water, scattered boulders and a bright blue sky.

She also saw a head of wispy, silvery blond hair, the strands unkempt and dirtied by soil. Draco's face was relaxed and open in sleep, and he was smiling, evidently having a good dream. Her caramel eyes trailed down his body, taking in the pale, exposed skin of his neck, his flowing robes, his arms- Draco Malfoy's- wrapped tightly around her. She was too tired to care really, but the sight still made her think twice, wonder if she was hallucinating.

After all, she'd fallen, fallen so long, and was obviously most definitely dead, right? And Draco had fell too, tumbling right after he into the empty darkness, and had died as well. Her idea of life after death did not involve being held in Draco Malfoy's arms- and she doubted his involved her.

But maybe, whispered a voice from the deep recesses of her mind, both of you are alive. Is that too impossible to believe?

No, it wasn't, but Hermione needed to know why. She wanted to have the knowledge. How did she and Draco escape the clutches of death? Wingardium Leviosa was out, it couldn't take a person up that far, apparation too- Hermione had lost her wand, and Draco would have had to have the ultimate amount of concentration. Which, she mused, had to be impossible while sinking into the abysses of Gringotts.

She was aware of a low groan, like how Harry would groan when he woke up, and her eyes met shining pools of gray, which looked at her in amazement.

"Hermi- Granger," breathed Draco, staring with a wondering look in his eyes. "Where are we? Is this heaven?"

"I was hoping I could ask you," confessed Hermione, feeling awkward since both of them were awake, even though Draco hadn't seemed to notice their positions. Though she wasn't ready for him to let go of her anytime soon... "I think we're alive. Soggy leaves do not belong in my heaven." She paused, considering something. "You can call me Hermione," she added as an afterthought. "I don't mind."

He nodded, looking around. "If we're alive, that means Potter and Weasley saved us, right? Dammit- now I owe my life to Weasel King."

"They're not here. For one thing, they'd have pried you off of me." She gave a small wiggle, which caused both of them to laugh.

"You better not be complaining. Many girls would kill to be you right now," he teased, squeezing her tighter, a smirk on his face. "Then who saved us?"

"I don't know. If someone did, then they've disappeared. They're not here now, that's for sure." Hermione squirmed out of Draco's grip. "And as enjoyable as it may be, perhaps we should get up and figure out what happened, and how to contact Ron and Harry."

"Well, for starters, do you see my wand? I don't think it's in my robes," said Draco, standing up and patting his pockets. "I remember holding it while we-um- fell though."

"You better not have lost it," hissed Hermione, scavenging through the leaves, desperately trying to find the missing wand. "Otherwise what'll we do?"

"This place looks... familiar," commented Draco strangely, looking around the woods with a glazed, nostalgic film over his eyes. "It looks just like the woods I hid in as a little kid..."

"Are you telling me we're near MALFOY MANOR?" asked Hermione urgently, struggling to keep from yelling.

"Um, yes?" Draco dodged the girl as she stepped forward with a furious gait. "If this is the forest I know though, it's outside the wards. Proof being that we have not been slaughtered by Death Eaters in our sleep."

"But we will if we don't find your wand, and we will if someone feels like having a midday stroll!" fretted Hermione, who was now pawing at the ground where Draco had laid.

"Relax, Hermione," assuaged Draco, slipping his tongue across those foreign syllables that felt right at home out of his mouth. "No one comes here. I'd only ever come to escape home for a little bit. Just calm down."

"I will not calm down, Draco Malfoy!" Hermione felt the smoothness of wood underneath her fingertips. "Hah! Your wand! Now we can apparate out of this place!"

"Is that a good idea?" voiced Draco, uncertain. "We're both tired-" Hermione's stomach growled. "-hungry, and have no idea how we got here. What if we get splinched?"

"But Harry and Ron are probably worried to de-"

"I'm sure they prefer you whole, Hermione. And heaven knows what bodily injuries Weasley would inflict on me if I let even a single bit of you get hurt?" he joked. "And I've never been the greatest apparator."

"But you're not- bad, are you?" asked Hermione. "I mean, I'm good at it, but I couldn't apparate you with me without my own wand." Which I lost, she thought.

"I've never apparated someone with me. And I'm behind in practice. I spent summer holed up in Malfoy Manor. I haven't done apparition for almost a year." Draco hesitated before continuing. "Also... My wand feels different. It won't respond properly to me."

"What do you mean?"

"You wouldn't have noticed- but I realized the spells I did were coming out wrong from time to time, and when they came out right, they weren't powerful enough. It also- feels weird." He carefully took the polished wand from Hermione, weighing it in his hands. "It works, but it's like it's trying to go against me."

"Do a spell," commanded Hermione, determined to make it work. After all, she didn't want to be stuck in the middle of nowhere... "Let me see what you mean."

Draco lazily pointed the wand, and with a swish and flick, a leaf rose in front of him, the dead brown foliage hovering for a few seconds before drooping back down to earth. "I should be able to hold that spell for as long as I desire. Even if I don't say it out loud. But it only lasts a few seconds."

"I read a book on wands once. There was something about allegiances in there." Hermione paused, mulling over the information retained in her memory. "Wands don't want to obey their previous masters after an allegiance shift. I think it's technically Harry's wand now, because he disarmed you."

"Are you kidding me?" Draco looked to the black wand in his hand and then to Hermione. "Are you saying there's nothing we can do?"

"It'd involve Harry, but he's not here right now." Hermione plopped herself onto the ground. "Let me try it. It should act equally to both of us, but it might be better for me, seeing it focused its allegiance shift away from you. Reducto!"

A small sapling next to her snapped cleanly in half, soft green leaves rustling as it hit the ground. "How does it feel?" asked Draco. "Your spell looked pretty good."

"It's like you said. With my own wand, I can cast it more powerfully. This one is fighting against me. I think we can both handle simple spells with this, but I wouldn't risk Side-Along apparation." Hermione frowned, looking grumpy.

"What's wrong?" Draco's silver eyes misted with curiosity and worry. From what he'd seen so far, Hermione's frowns were never a good thing.

"Don't you get it? Now we have to walk until we find someone we can trust, and can get us to either Harry or Bill and Fleur's." She sighed as the comment sank in. "I hope you're up for hiking, Draco."

*Review Replies first!

**Somnus Verus: Is that a good thing? **

**wolvesdrinktea: That's why it's in there. ;D**

**forbiddenluv: I'm glad you think so. :)**

**Maia: XD Thanks!**

Okay, I've decided what I'm doing for NanoWrimo. A half-Nano fanfiction for Code Geass. Also... I'm also in that stage of writing a story where I've kind of lost interest in writing it completely. DX I know, I'm a terrible writer, but it _always_ happens! I just want to hit myself! Every time I come up with something new I just abandon whatever I was working on. I've been trying my hardest to write 'Escape', but it always comes out so awkward and just- ugh. I have like- one or two (I don't even know anymore) chapters in back-up, but after that, I'm not even sure what I'm going to do. I just dug myself into a hole and I can't figure a way out. Sorry guys, but that's where I am right now. :( I promise to try my hardest, but I can't ensure you that this will be completed. (heck, none of my fanfictions are finished. 'cept one, but that was a stinking two-shot.) So... this is an awkward moment to break off, but yeah. Hopefully I'll be able to update for two or three more weeks, but don't count on it. I'll tell you when I'm sure though. Sorry.*

*I've decided to stop writing this. I've had no inspiration, and Chapter 13 isn't even finished. Apologies, but don't expect a new chapter. Sorry.*


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